


The Ballad of a Caged Bird

by CaptainCaboose



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 22:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2404742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCaboose/pseuds/CaptainCaboose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lovely nineteen year old, Carol Anne Cambridge, has always been fascinated by pirates but her lady-like upbringing has forced her purpose in life to be the perfect wife and find a rich husband. When all goes wrong, Carol Anne finds herself face to face with the tentacle beard of Davy Jones himself. How will our fancy lady change aboard the Flying Dutchman?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Part 1 – Chapter 1

**Thank you to my beta: redchicken888**

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Pirates of the Caribbean**

**Third Person POV**

 

_“Richard! Please! Richard, stop!” a voice screamed, pure fear in the woman’s voice. The clanging of pots and pans rang through the empty house as the woman continued to cry; either in pain or fear...or both. The angry shouts and yells that emanated from the man, Richard, shook a particular little girl’s bones, spreading terror throughout her rapidly._

 

_“You’re a worthless bitch, Mary!” Richard yelled. Soft crying followed the silence after his words. Hushed tears slipped from the little girl’s eyes, hitting the rough, wood floor of the dark closet she was hiding in. Her mother, the woman, had hidden her there to protect her. “Where is that whelp of a daughter?” His boots seemed to get louder to the little girl when he spoke of her. Her eyes widened as the footsteps did in fact get louder and closer to her hiding place._

 

_Mary continued to cry from the kitchen but that didn’t stop Richard’s pursuit. She whimpered in pain even though the girl’s father wasn’t near her. She was hurt badly._

 

_It was deathly quiet except for the slow footsteps of the girl’s father and him softly calling her name, taunting her, as he walked past the closet. She held her breath, her heart pounding in her ears. She was sure that her father could hear it. The candlelight from Richard was shining from under the door and she could see the shadows of his feet. They passed right by her and she breathed a sigh of relief._

 

_But the closet door was ripped open suddenly, a flood of light blinding the little girl. The only thing she could see was her father’s face that was twisted into a malicious smile, one of demons and devils. His hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and a gut-wrenching scream of pain and horror came from the girl’s mouth as he yanked her from the closet._

 

Her loud scream jerked her from her sleep, causing her to bolt upright in bed. She was sweating, panting and glancing around the room to reassure herself that it was just a dream. Or rather, reassure herself that it was just a memory…

 

The girl’s heart rate finally went down after a moment and she brushed her long, raven hair out of her face. It looked just like her father’s.

 

_I’m not in a dream; I’m in a living hell,_ she thought.

 

Her slender fingers fondled the fraying sheets of her bed as she chewed the inside of her cheek. The dream had been a memory of her seven year old self. Memories like that always resurfaced at one time or another.

 

Her head whipped upwards as the door to her bedroom flew open and banged against the wall. In the doorway stood a fuming Richard, still in his wrinkled and disheveled clothes that he had worn yesterday. He had passed out drunk last night, once again. Fear filled the girl as he stalked towards her, red faced and fists clenched.

 

“You listen here, Carol Anne. I’m tryin’ to sleep and you’re screamin’ your damn head off in here. Now shut your fuckin’ mouth before I do it for you!” he threatened, giving her one last angry look before leaving. He slammed the door on his way out, leaving the wood panels of the wall rattling.

 

Carol Anne glared after him, huffing at his ridiculous anger before getting out of bed.

 

_I’m awake anyway,_ she thought.

 

She stumbled to her dresser, grimacing as she clumsily stubbed her toe against the polished wood. She found her clothes needed for the day before carelessly throwing them on the bed.

 

Carol Anne was definitely not the most graceful or the most organized person in the world, and both of these aspects were ones that her parents despised. She was rather a disgrace to them and they both made sure she knew itbut they each show it in their own way. Her father expresses it in physical violence. Her mother, on the other hand, rudely corrects Carol Anne with an insult or by digging her nails into her arm, a habit she had picked up from when Carol Anne was younger.

 

She never fails to run out of insults either, whether it’s about Carol Anne’s intelligence, hair, clothes, lack of balance, or just being herself—it didn’t matter. Mary only cared about reputation, for suitors of course. She wanted her daughter to be perfect—even though she never truly could be perfect in her eyes. She only wanted the money and fame; she wanted to brag about how her daughter was lucky enough to marry a rich boy.

 

Mary mostly nags Carol Anne the most about her manners and clumsiness. Carol Anne doesn’t think that her mother can go an entire day, let alone five minutes,without correcting or belittling her. One day, her father had remarked how she looked like a lumbering, one-legged frog. Her best friend, David, calls it a beauty flaw, considering that almost everyone thought Carol Anne to be beautiful.

 

And she knew it of course. One either must be inhumanly modest or just plain stupid to not realize if they’re beautiful or not. Carol Anne absolutely knew she was beautiful, she embraced it and she loved the attention she got from it. She took it for granted as well, finding life particularly easy for herself despite her situation at home. Beauty was something she also took advantage of when she needed it, she enjoyed the special treatment she always received.

 

But clumsiness is something that is contradictory to beauty. Beauty was elegant and graceful but clumsiness was the opposite. It was a curse on Carol Anne and it made her parents hate her all the more.

 

She was just about to strip off her nightgown to dress herself when her mother burst through the door, unannounced. Carol Anne looked her in the eye as she was always told to do; meet someone’s gaze when they enter a room, especially if they are of higher rank than you.

 

Mary’s graying, blonde hair was a bit frizzy from her sleep. It was tucked into a tight bun that looked as if it were going to pull the skin off her face if it stayed like that for too long.

 

_Perhaps it hid the wrinkles,_ Carol Anne thought at the sight of her mother’s aging face.

 

Mary’s nightgown swayed at her slipper-covered feet as she closed the door behind her. Carol Anne was standing up completely straight now, knowing that posture was important to her mother.

 

“I assume that you forgot about you courting today with Charles Avery, Carol Anne?” Carol Anne’s cheeks flushed in shame and dread. Her mother just stared at her. “I expect you to bathe and then I shall prepare you for the courting. You will bathe quickly. I expect you to be back in your room in no less than ten minutes, otherwise there will be consequences. Is that understood?”

 

Carol Anne nodded, looking back into her mother’s hard and cold blue eyes. They were the ones she had inherited. Mary’s eyes used to sparkle like stars when Carol Anne was little. But that was before she became cruel. Mary was always rude but she just got worse as her daughter matured. When Carol Anne was much younger, Mary would make her look in the mirror and point out the stars in her eyes like they were something special. Carol Anne found the stars in her mother’s eyes too. But Mary gave up on Carol Anne being special and the light in her eyes had frozen over. They turned into solid blocks of blue ice. Carol Anne’s had faded into blank pools of bright baby blue. She could never find the stars anymore.

 

“Yes, Mother,” Carol Anne answered, her voice stoic and emotionless. Mary nodded once, curtly, before turning and striding out of the room with a ridged back and straight shoulders. She had always criticized Carol Anne about her posture but Carol Anne didn’t want to walk like she had a pole up her back.

 

She sighed; her mother was right when she said Carol Anne had forgotten about her courting that day. She hated being courted even though it meant a brighter future. It was supposed to be about the couple but for Carol Anne, it was just constant harassment from her mother about what to do and what not to do. It grated on her nerves. Carol Anne longed to be doing other things, rather than be shoved into a dress that squeezed her in strange places and trying to be the perfect wife. It was absolutely horrible. Carol Anne wanted a life where she could be free. She didn’t want to worry about stupid dresses and mannerisms.

 

But a life like that didn’t seem to exist for Carol Anne.

 

The time was ticking by and she rushed to get a bath started before Mary had a heart attack. The family was lucky to have a house with a nice plumbing system. They weren’t particularly rich but they weren’t exactly poor. The house was bigger than the average with one floor. It could’ve been so much more if Richard hadn’t blew most of their money on women and booze and Mary bought Carol Anne fancy dresses and other such things.

 

When the tub was filled with water, Carol Anne stepped in. Her muscles relaxed, her worn-out body feeling relieved.

 

Even though her family was a fortunate one, Carol Anne still helped her best friend, David, with his work. His father was an honest merchant and David and his brothers had to help with loading and unloading the ship. They worked other jobs as well with their mother. When Carol Anne was bored, she would accompany them. She would help deliver, store, package, load, unload, stack, and even sell the goods their father delivered. Because of that, she had bruises and scratches on her body. They were scattered in patterns on her skin―some from working and some from occasions where her father had gotten too drunk. Bruises were more frequent on her arms while scratches and cuts; from injuries or her own clumsiness, varied.

 

Carol Anne never spoke to anyone (except David) about her rough life at home. She didn’t really have that many close friends in town―and certainly none of whom she could trust with such a secret. Rumors spread like wildfire in their small city of Saint John. If everybody knew what her parents did to her, she would definitely receive a punishment for ruining the family’s reputation. Carol Anne knew that some people suspected her secret; they saw her strange bruises that were always on her skin or the excessive powder covering a black eye or a cut on her cheek. But no one said anything. It wasn’t anyone’s business what a man did to his family behind closed doors.

 

Her finger traced a scar that still hadn’t faded away on her bicep in a melancholy way before she shook her head, trying to rid herself of all the bad memories the scars held. She grabbed the soap bar and began scrubbing herself. She scrubbed until her skin felt quite raw and got out. After wrapping herself in a towel, she skittered to her room. Luckily, she got there just before her mother entered the room. Mary was already in half her skirts that she needed to wear for Carol Anne’s courting. Mary had always said it was proper for a mother to be at her daughter’s courting but Carol Anne thought it was silly.

 

Mary didn’t speak to Carol Anne as she dug through her closet for a dress and her other skirts. She tossed her daughter a white shift and Carol Anne quickly changed into it while her back was turned. When she whipped around again, Mary held one of Carol Anne’s most fancy dresses in her hands and Carol Anne immediately knew that this courting would be important. She held still as Mary slipped her corset over her head and began to tighten the strings.

 

“Carol Anne, remember to be polite and do not slouch,” she commanded. “It makes you look hideous and barbaric. Do not speak rudely to anyone and act as if you are the happiest woman around.” She tried not to flinch when her corset constricted her chest almost unbearably. “Be kind to their slaves, we do not need anyone of the household against you.”

 

“Do not stuff your face; we do not you fatter than you already are. Do not stutter―speak clearly when you talk. And most importantly…” she paused as she yanked the corset even tighter, “... _do not fall.”_

 

“Yes, Mother.” Carol Anne sounded a little wheezy. Mary didn’t respond as she finished tightening her corset. She then helped Carol Anne into her dress that had been tailored to fit her perfectly. After her dress was on properly, Mary fiddled with the skirt before standing to examine her daughter from a distance.

 

“Carol Anne, I wish you’d stop eating so much. It ruins your figure.” She sighed. Carol Anne didn’t respond. Mary just shook her head before leading her over to her bureau, plopping her down in a little chair and combing through her hair.

 

Everyone in the city reassured Carol Anne that she was not fat. Whenever she mentioned that she was only eating vegetables or taking a break from sugar, they would say that she should be eating more and that she was as skinny as a stick. What they said comforted the young girl and she was no longer affected when her mother mentioned her weight. The opinion of the city had become more important than her mother’s. For Carol Anne knew that they would not lie.

 

She stared blankly at her reflection, her blue eyes staring back at her pale face lifelessly. She would grimace every once in a while as Mary pulled too roughly on her hair or scratched her neck. Carol Anne was relieved when she was finished. Her curly, wild bed-head had been transformed into a delicate hair style: her curls being used to her advantage instead of being a nuisance. Her eyes were wide as they took in her hair. Mary had never done such a beautiful job before!

 

Mary continued to stay silent and Carol Anne didn’t bother to break that silence as she started to smudge some of that rotten makeup onto her face. She put some on her cheeks and eyes before dusting her face with powder. Carol Anne’s lips were red enough to leave uncovered. The Cambridge’s maid, Grace, once told Carol Anne that her lips looked like she had eaten too many red licorice twists at the sweet shop.

 

“Stand,” ordered Mary and she stood. Carol Anne hadn’t even gotten a chance to examine her face. Her back was straight and her hands hung loosely by her sides. “Well, I did the best I could. Hopefully Charles Avery will be able to see something of worth in you. I’ll finish getting ready and we’ll be on our way.” Carol Anne nodded. Mary turned and swept out of the room faster than lightning.

 

A bad feeling settled in her stomach as her mother mentioned Charles Avery again. She had heard what a snob he was and how he loved to brag about his riches. He was far from what Carol Anne would even consider marrying―if she even wanted to get married, that is―but there was no choice when her mother was involved.

 

Carol Anne caught the sight of some ivory, high-heeled shoes that had been placed on her bed. She groaned, but slipped them on her feet anyway.

 

_If Mother wants to put me at a higher risk of falling, so be it._

 

As she put her shoes on, she noticed an elegant but unfamiliar figure that was in the full-length mirror by the wall. Carol Anne stood up straight quickly, surprised by the unknown person in the room. A flash of fear flooded her chest at the thought of an unexpected stranger. But the figure in the mirror copied her movements. Carol Anne crinkled her eyebrows at her, realizing that this... _woman_...was _her._ She walked closer to the mirror and the woman did the same. She looked her up and down with a confused expression. The woman in the mirror did not look like the girl she had always seen.

 

This woman had a curved and defined figure, her face delicate and her ebony hair done up perfectly. By just a glance, this woman appeared flawless in every possible way. But Carol Anne looked in this woman’s eyes and saw a storm. It was a hurricane of emotions with rain pounding down and thunder booming; clouds rolling in and out, bringing new feelings with each wave. The woman who stared back in the mirror was not Carol Anne. Yes, their hair was the same, their facial features were the same, and they had the same life. But the real Carol Anne would not wear this dress and the real Carol Anne would not be wearing her hair pinned up in such a way and the real Carol Anne would most certainly _not_ be going to visit a suitor.

 

The real Carol Anne was a girl on the brink of becoming a woman. Even though she was nineteen years old, it still appeared that she had some growing to do. She even had some baby fat to spare. The woman in the mirror was a matured, young lady and did not resemble Carol Anne at all.

 

She cast a hostile glare at the woman, angry that her curves were so deep and her face so defined. The woman in the mirror mimicked her and she growled softly while resisting the urge to rip off the dress and dive into the sea to wash away the fake identity. A fake identity that her mother had forced upon her. But instead, she turned away to dig through her jewelry box. She picked out a pair of pearl earrings and put them on before spraying some perfume.

 

Carol Anne’s hands found her favorite piece of jewelry sitting in the box―a rose pendant. David had given it to her for her seventeenth birthday. Mary had warned her that she was not to be “sentimental” towards him because he was not to be her husband. He was a merchant’s son, and not a very wealthy one at that. Carol Anne always reassured her mother that they were just friends and that it was a token of his friendship but she never believed her. She always frowned whenever she mentioned David.

 

She clasped the silver chain around her neck, watching the worn metal glisten in the already risen sun. The light reflected off of the many grooves in the necklace’s intricate design. David had told her that his father bartered for it and planned to give it to his mother. But he had decided against it and gave it David for his birthday. David then had it cleaned up by a craftsman before giving it to Carol Anne.

 

Carol Anne had tried to convince him that she didn’t need the necklace. She couldn’t take something of such expense from him! He was much less fortunate than she. But he insisted. She liked it though, the silver rose embedded in the black pendant with an elaborate design of intertwining metals around it. The memory of him giving it to her in a little wooden box with a bow on it and their argument resided in those intertwined metals. She stared absentmindedly at the necklace, a light smile floating on her lips.

 

She was suddenly jerked out of her reverie when the sound of her mother’s quick footsteps made her turn to face her at the doorway. Mary was dressed up as well and her hair was tied in a neat bun on the top of her head.

 

“It’s time to go―we need to get there on time or it’s all for naught.” Carol Anne nodded.

 

After turning to look at herself in the mirror one last time, she decided to really look at her dress this time. It was elegant, made of heavy cloth with a beautiful design printed all over it. The sleeves stopped at her elbows and the skirt swayed at her feet; perfect for late spring. The bodice made her stomach look sucked in and her breasts look bigger―all while making her waist tiny at the same time. She was amazed at how defined her body was, but another sharp call from Mary pulled her from her trance.

 

Carol Anne tried to hurry out of the room without stepping on her dress but she tripped anyway. While managing to catch herself on the wall, she met her mother’s annoyed face at the door. Her father was nowhere to be found but she didn’t dwell on the fact, following Mary out the door and onto the cobblestone streets of town.

 

Because it wasn’t that far and Mary wouldn’t miss a chance to flaunt Carol Anne around the city, they were going to walk to Charles Avery’s house. Carol Anne would have rather used their carriage, but Mary wouldn’t want her to get all dressed up only to have one boy see her. She hated being stared at like a prize or some sort of trophy. It was uncomfortable. Carol Anne was like Mary’s merchandise and the highest bidder―the richest boy in town―won by marrying her. If she was going to be merchandise, she would be the only one to sell herself.

 

Mary stopped her as they walked off their property and to the busy morning streets. “Charles Avery is expecting us for breakfast, so there’s no time for any idle chit chat.” She didn’t bother to look at Carol Anne as she spoke.

 

“Yes, Mother.” Carol Anne began following her as she continued forward. She waited for a moment before falling in line behind her. It was a sign of respect and usually she was scolded if she didn’t do it.

 

As the pair walked through the streets, Mary’s head was held high with a no-nonsense look on her face. Everyone seemed to move out of her way. Carol Anne trailed behind her like a lost puppy, hands folded neatly in front of her, back straight, and eyes focused ahead. She could feel the stares as she walked. Young girls were casting her dirty looks and whispering with jealousy, while the boys smirked and elbowed each other. Even older men were eyeing her. She shot them all malevolent looks and would’ve given them a piece of her mind but she couldn’t speak without getting in trouble with her mother.

 

Carol Anne absolutely hated prancing around in these frilly school-girl dresses! She wanted nothing more than to smack those leering boys upside their heads. Only God knows what Mary would do if she saw her daughter behaving in such a _barbaric_ manner. She always complained about how boyish Carol Anne was, always complained about how she had always wanted to fight and wrestle in the mud. Of course, Carol Anne was to be a lady, not a pigheaded boy. And so her wrestling days were put to an end.

 

About halfway through the walk, Carol Anne spotted David a little ways off, holding a rather larger sack of sugar over his shoulder. Sweat was dripping down his face and soaking into his shirt. Carol Anne instantly felt even sillier than she already did; walking around in a fancy dress when she would much rather be sweating alongside David. His three older brothers were ahead of him while the youngest was behind him. The oldest carrying four sacks of sugar, the second oldest three sacks, the third oldest two sacks, David one sack. The youngest was the only girl in the family; she carried nothing but a ripe, red apple.

 

The oldest, John, was a muscular, twenty-five year old with light brown hair. He was to be married to a woman named Estella. She wasn’t the prettiest, nor the smartest, but John chose her. Even though John was very handsome and wanted by most of the ladies in town, he chose the one that didn’t want him. And that one was Estella. She was a kind woman with a good soul. Carol Anne liked her.

 

The second oldest was Gregory. He was a skinny little thing, with his chestnut hair hanging in front of his eyes. His mother always pestered him about it, wanting to cut it but he wouldn’t have that. Gregory was twenty-three and had yet to find himself a woman to marry. But Carol Anne had heard rumors about a blacksmith’s daughter named Evelyn. She had asked him about Evelyn once. Amusingly, he just blushed and stuttered an answer while hiding behind his hair.

 

The second youngest and third oldest was Jacob. He took after John with his growing muscles and handsome face. He was also very good with the ladies, but happy without a love at twenty-one. Jacob shadowed John, trying to follow him everywhere but John always shooed him off.

 

David was nineteen, same as Carol Anne, with dark brown hair tied back into a short ponytail. He was a mix of all his brothers. David had a wiry build, the same leanness that Gregory had, with a bit of good looks from Jacob and John. He was shy like Gregory, but talkative with Carol Anne.

 

Now, Mary Margaret. That child was something else. She’s going to be no lady, that’s for sure. She’s tougher than all the boys her age, can fight better, run faster, and spit farther than any of them. She had the round, cute face of a girl but the muscular frame of her brothers. A leaf or two was always stuck in that long, brown mane of hers. She always wanted Carol Anne to brush it out because she always had “nice hair” as she put it. That was a relief to her mother, since the ten year old refused to let her touch it. Mary Margaret’s eyes were the brightest green Carol Anne had ever seen and they were always delightfully twinkling. She often thought of her as the sister she never had. Carol Anne did love that wild child.

 

As soon as he saw Carol Anne, David did a double take, staggeringly wide-eyed. Carol Anne chuckled. He took in her dress and her hair, a ghost of a smile playing on his mouth. She waved slightly and he waved back, taking a hand off the bag of sugar. It fell to the ground with a puff of dirt in the air. Jacob turned at the noise and began to scold him before following his gaze to look at Carol Anne as well.

 

A knowing smile spread across Jacob’s face. He nudged David’s shoulder before saying something that Carol Anne couldn’t hear. David glared up at Jacob, his cheeks reddening as he shoved him. Jacob erupted into laughter at this. John looked back at the two who had dropped their bags of sugar and were now bickering as well as shoving each other. A teasing smile was still wide on Jacob’s mouth.

 

Carol Anne hadn’t realized that her walk had slowed until she was fully stopped, watching John yell at the two, who ceased their fighting immediately to continue on. David cast Carol Anne one last embarrassed look before picking up the sack of sugar and hurrying to catch up with the others. Mary Margaret trailed behind him while happily munching on the apple. She had witnessed the fight but chose not to participate, she knew better than to get trampled under her brothers.

 

A warm feeling had spread inside of Carol Anne as she watched this exchange. This...this was how a family was supposed to be. Looking out for each other, having fun teasing. David always told her that he wanted to be an only child and that he wanted to kill his brothers and sister at times (not literally of course) but Carol Anne never believed him. It must be so nice to have someone to be so easy-going with.

 

The four continued on their journey, forming a single file line with the oldest in the front and the youngest in the back.

 

“Carol Anne!” Mary’s faraway, sharp voice called. Looking back at David’s family once more, Carol Anne sped up to get back to her mother. Even though she tried to be ladylike without hurrying, she was forced to pull up her skirts, stumbling in her high-heeled shoes. Mary’s face looked disapproving. Carol Anne slowed down and tried to walk as fast as she could without tripping. But Mary gave Carol Anne a glare anyway when she reached her before turning and walking on.

 

It was clear to everyone in Saint John that Carol Anne was no lady. Everyone remembered how she was when she was a child. Even though she was being trained to be a lady, there was still that part inside of her that longed to get muddy again.

 

_What a stupid notion to have._

 

Carol Anne and Mary finally arrived at the doorstep of Charles Avery’s house but Mary didn’t ring the doorbell just yet. Instead, she turned to Carol Anne and smoothed her hair down, adjusting anything out of place before sighing like something was missing from her daughter.

 

“Remember everything I told you. Be polite and don’t fall.” Her voice was serious; her cobalt eyes slicing through any confidence Carol Anne had built up before they got there. She nodded sincerely, knowing how important this was to her mother. While fingering the rose pendant between her fingers, she watched as Mary knocked on the door. Taking a deep breath, she felt the corset restrict her chest movements. She released the air she had.

  
The door swung open and Carol Anne felt like she was opening a door to a new opportunity. Whether it was a good one or a bad one, she wasn’t sure.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 1 – Chapter 2

**Thank you to my beta: redchicken888**

**Third Person POV**

 

An older man answered the door. He had tired wrinkles and baggy eyes, but he still looked to be in good health. Mary put on her nice act. She smiled at the man and so did Carol Anne, but Mary’s smile was warmer and more genuine. The man did nothing except cast the two a bored look.

 

Carol Anne’s smile faltered.

 

“Are you two Mary and Carol Anne Cambridge?” The man spoke in a deep, dull voice. Mary nodded. “Master Henry and Charles are expecting you.” He opened the door further and stood aside.

 

Mary walked in first, looking around the house like she was used to it, but there was bewilderment in her eyes. Carol Anne didn’t mask her awe at all. The crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling enchanted her the most. It glittered and shone like a Christmas tree. Everything was so fancy and delicate.

 

The sound of a heavy door shutting snapped the women out of their trance. “This way,” the man called. Mary went in front of Carol Anne as they followed him down a hallway.

 

Carol Anne gazed at everything in wonder as they walked. They passed grand portraits, ancient artifacts, and expensive vases. Their path led outside and down a stone pathway to a white veranda. The amount of plants and flowers made Carol Anne’s eyes widen in amazement but the man seemed to be unfazed by it all. Once they arrived at a small white garden table made of metal crafted into elegant designs, they sat in two of the four chairs that were there. Mary crossed her ankles while Carol Anne fidgeted.

 

“Master Henry and Charles will be with you shortly,” he said before nodding and turning to leave. When the man was gone, Mary straightened Carol Anne’s back forcefully and adjusted every little thing she saw wrong on her. Carol Anne just stared out through the windows of the veranda at the open ocean, daydreaming. It was such a beautiful view.

 

“...Carol Anne, are you even listening?” Mary’s voice gradually filtered through Carol Anne’s mind. She blinked, looking at her mother with a startled expression. Mary scowled.

 

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you, Mother,” she answered. Mary growled softly at her in annoyance, brushing a piece of invisible dust off her shoulder. The sound of footsteps silenced Mary just as she was about to repeat herself.

 

They turned their heads to find two people, one man and one young man, walking towards them. Mary stood up abruptly and Carol Anne followed, much slower and less enthusiastically.

 

“Missus Mary and Miss Carol Anne Cambridge,” the older man greeted, smiling at Mary. She smiled back as he kissed her hand, then turned and did the same to Carol Anne. “You two look lovely this wonderful morning.”

 

“Why, you’re too kind, Mister Avery.” Mary giggled, sounding like a smitten schoolgirl. Carol Anne raised an eyebrow at her. Something odd was twinkling in her eyes as she stared at Mister Avery.

 

“Please, call me Henry.” He motioned to the young man standing next to him and put a hand on his back. He hadn’t spoken a word. “This is my son, Charles.”

 

Charles Avery was a skinny thing despite all the food he was available to. His golden hair was combed to the side in a very organized manner and his hands were behind his back, like he was hiding something.

 

“Nice to meet your acquaintance, Missus Cambridge and Miss Carol Anne.” He kissed Mary’s hand and then Carol Anne’s. She could tell that Mary was making notes about him. His manners were definitely something she had mentally written down, along with his fancy suit.

 

“I apologize for requiring you both here so early in the morning but I’m afraid I have a meeting with the governor this afternoon and Charles has his schoolwork to complete,” Henry said but Mary quickly dismissed his apology.

 

“It’s absolutely fine, Henry. We couldn’t have picked a better time to meet you.”

 

“Father, why don’t you take Missus Cambridge on a tour of the house and I can take Miss Carol Anne for a walk around the garden?” said Charles Avery, interrupting any other conversation between Henry and Mary.

 

Carol Anne bit her lip at the thought. _At least my mother won’t be here to see me mess this up._

 

“What a grand idea, Charles. We can all meet back here for some tea and biscuits,” Henry agreed and Carol Anne nodded just to make it look like she was excited for the plan. “Shall we?” Henry asked, holding his arm out for Mary to take.

 

“You have such a lovely home! It must have cost―” Mary’s voice faded as the pair walked away, leaving Charles Avery and Carol Anne alone.

 

“Why don’t we start by the petunias?” Charles Avery suggested. Carol Anne nodded; somehow her corset was tightening around her without anyone pulling at the laces.

 

She didn’t really mind that he didn’t offer her his arm and they started their stroll around the stone path. “This garden was constructed entirely out of the flora and stone from the forests and jungles of the Americas. My father wouldn’t have it if we used anything from England―he wanted to start fresh. Isn’t it grand?” he asked, looking out across the large garden. Carol Anne wished she had a fan.

 

“It is quite fascinating; I think that your father had a wonderful idea when he had this built. But doesn’t he miss England? Surely he would want something to remember it by,” Carol Anne responded, marveling at the size and color of a petunia. How she longed for a garden such as this for herself. Charles Avery hadn’t bothered to stop walking so she had to catch up with him.

 

“How could you miss England? The New World is truly a diamond in the ruff; it is a gold mine itself. England is old and outdated, ridden with disease and corruption. The Americas will soon become a luxury. People will wish they’d have staked their claim of land sooner.” He spoke in a tone that made Carol Anne feel stupid. She nodded blankly as they continued their stroll on the path.

 

“So, have you been caught up in the economy of England these days?” he asked. Carol Anne blanched slightly, not prepared for the question. But he didn’t wait for her response anyway, not even bothering to cast her a look or a smile. “It is thriving these days. I can only imagine it getting better. My father has invested money in selling things from the Americas to the people of England. Mostly sugar and coffee and things of that sort. We are on the verge of buying a tobacco plantation in Virginia, way up North. We haven’t expanded to products such as slaves quite yet, but we plan to add a plantation of our own to the property soon. It is all quite interesting how it works. Shall I explain it?” he asked, finally looking at Carol Anne with a tight smile. She resisted the urge to sigh in boredom and smiled back despite his atrocious mention of selling slaves. But she could not speak what she thought; men did not like to hear the opinions of women. Especially not white men.

 

“Of course, Charles. It sounds so very complicated,” she said. She tried to sound interested but her agreement was all it took to get him started.

 

“Well, not as complicated as you would think. Your womanly mind may think it difficult but―”

 

As Charles Avery droned on about selling goods and how they were shipped and what you should or shouldn’t do when buying products and how women did not understand economics, Carol Anne let her mind wander. She gazed out at the sea and the beautifully arranged garden as they slowly walked. The chirping of birds and the soft wind provided her a relief from Charles Avery’s non-stop talking. After he seemed to be done discussing the economy, he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth about a different subject.

 

“I had this suit made special; it is made by the finest tailor here in Saint John. My father paid for premium silk and lace all the way from China. Or wherever those barbaric Asians live. God save them.” Yet again, Carol Anne held her tongue at his rudeness. “He wanted the design and stitching to be intricate. He wanted nothing less for me and I could not have expected anything less. It could of course, be better―the tone of burgundy here seems a little...dull.”

 

Carol Anne had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. It was a bit strange that he was so interested in style but then again, Charles Avery was a strange boy. At least in her eyes; her mother thought different.

 

“It looks absolutely wonderful, Charles.” Carol Anne smiled weakly but his eyes wouldn’t meet hers. Again. He was too busy dusting off his best. “I don’t think that the tailor could have done any better. Surely your father paid much for that suit. Who was it crafted by?” she asked, trying to get her own words in before he went off on another rant. Her question sent him off criticizing the poor tailor in town; he complained and complained, not once praising the man.

 

Multiple times, Carol Anne opened her mouth with words resting on her tongue but she could not seem to interrupt Charles. He just wouldn’t shut his mouth. She began to fan herself with her hand, the temperature rising with the sun. She couldn’t bring herself to care that her mother would call fanning herself without a fan rude and disgraceful. Charles Avery surely didn’t seem to care either. They walked around the garden a little while longer before a small, plump woman with dark skin came shuffling quickly up to the two.

 

“Master Charles, Miss Carol Anne, your parents are awaiting you in the veranda to have tea.” The woman’s voice was contrite and quiet but her, perhaps African, accent made her words interesting to listen to. With her skin color and dirty apron, it was clear that she worked in the kitchen. Her round cheeks and stomach made her look like a cherub but her growing wrinkles and graying hair diminished that image. The woman had a kind ambience about her.

 

“Come, Carol Anne. My father and your mother are waiting.” He gestured in the right direction for her to walk. He talked to her as if he hadn’t heard the woman nor seen her. It unsettled Carol Anne that Charles Avery treated this woman so rudely. The woman did not seem surprised by this treatment.

 

“Thank you for the walk, Charles. It was delightful, the garden was stunning.” At her words, all Charles Avery did was give her a tight smile. She was a bit shocked by this. Seeing how nice his upbringing must have been, she’d expect at least a “you’re welcome” or “of course.”

 

They walked in silence. Carol Anne was anxious to get to the veranda. She definitely knew one thing; she did _not_ want to marry Charles Avery.

 

“There you two are! We were wondering what took you so long. Did you get a little caught up in getting to know each other?” Henry asked when they finally reached them. Mary smiled, but Carol Anne could see her cold eyes searching her face, her dress, her posture, everything. She noticed that the table they had sat at was now cluttered with pastries, delicacies, fruits, and tea. They had out a fine china tea set, which Carol Anne found to be very beautiful, with gold-rimmed cups and hand-painted flowers.

 

“Of course, Father. I was discussing England’s recent economics with Carol Anne,” Charles Avery said. She shuffled her feet, slightly sore from wearing those heeled shoes.

 

“Shall we get our plates?” he asked, gesturing to the table. Carol Anne agreed, as did Henry and Mary. When Charles filled his plate, he didn’t sit down so she assumed that either they weren’t sitting or they were sitting somewhere else. She hoped that they wouldn’t be standing for too much longer.

 

Carol Anne stepped forward to take her own china plate, but her shoes caught on one another and to her horror, she fell.

 

In a quick attempt to save herself, she grabbed the white tablecloth―but instead of saving herself, all the food on the table came crashing down. It all happened in slow motion. The look on Mary’s face told Carol Anne that she would be getting a beating after this and Charles Avery’s face was beyond disgusted. She felt the tea splash all over her along with the frosting and jelly of all the pastries.

 

Carol Anne didn’t move, even after the sound of breaking china stopped. She just sat there with a shocked expression. Charles Avery immediately started exclaiming his disgust; examining his clothing while Henry and the maid she had seen before helped her to her feet. Carol Anne noticed another servant had shown up and stared at the mess with wide eyes.

 

“This is pure silk! How on Earth am I going to get this stain out? A whole suit, ruined!” Charles Avery wailed, continuing on and on about a little drop of tea he had gotten on his pants while Carol Anne was completely covered in food. The look on Mary’s face couldn’t even begin to describe how furious she was. Henry wasn’t saying anything but apologetic things as he tried to wipe the jelly off her dress with a napkin. The maid was helping as well. The other servant began clearing the floor so everyone wasn’t surrounded by broken china and glass.

 

“I am so sorry this happened, Miss Carol Anne! Perhaps Sinead can clean you up in the kitchen and we can find you a new dress. I am so terribly sorry that your beautiful dress is ruined,” Henry exclaimed, not minding the icing he got on his sleeves and skin while he helped Carol Anne to her feet. She nodded; thoroughly embarrassed for making a fool of herself like this. Mary looked even more horrified than Carol Anne did.

 

“It’s not your fault, it was mine,” she cried out, not wanting Henry to feel guilty. “I apologize for breaking the china and making a mess.” The maid, Sinead, began to lead Carol Anne off by her arm. Henry just waved her away and he disappeared from her vision as Sinead pulled her into the house. Her heels made loud clicking noises on the marble, echoing throughout the seemingly empty house.

 

“You poor dear, so sorry for your pretty dress. You must have paid much for it.” Sinead was sympathetic as she tugged Carol Anne into the deserted kitchen. She enjoyed hearing the woman speak; her accent was funny to her. Carol Anne never heard many African accents so it was alien to her. She was so used to the British accents that most people had in Saint John.

 

Smells of baked treats still lingered in the air. Sinead let go of Carol Anne’s arm and began to fill a bucket of water when a man walked in through a back door. He wiped his hands on a rag and gave Carol Anne a friendly smile. She was a bit embarrassed to be seen by yet another person in such a terrible condition.

 

“What have you here, Sinead?” he asked in an accent similar to Sinead’s, tossing the dirtied rag over his shoulder. Sinead finished filling the bucket, then grabbed a much cleaner and softer rag to clean Carol Anne with it. She would have told the maid that she could do it, but Sinead seemed persistent and...honestly, Carol Anne hadn’t had someone take care of her like this in a while. She enjoyed it.

 

“Miss Carol Anne Cambridge. Miss Carol Anne and her mother are Master Charles’ guests. She had a little fall,” Sinead explained. Carol Anne smiled sheepishly as the man chuckled. She could see Sinead pause as she wiped away some icing on her neck; it had revealed a light bruise.

 

“Well, I hope those treats tasted as good as they look on you.” The man laughed at his joke and Carol Anne couldn’t help but chuckle. She was a little relieved that Sinead had moved on to getting the icing and jelly out of her hair instead of asking questions about the bruise. Since the style that Mary had done was ruined, Sinead just carelessly went through it. The man began to clean up the kitchen, moving pots and pans around and cleaning the counters. Occasionally another maid or servant would pass through but one never stayed for too long.

 

“I tried the best I could, but I’m afraid that you need to bathe to get it all out of your hair,” she said sympathetically. “I’ll get you a dress, dear. You are not going home in that ruined thing.”

 

She abruptly swept out of the kitchen, leaving Carol Anne with the nameless man. He was still making a racket on the other side of the kitchen―she couldn’t get a word in even if she wanted to.

 

Sinead returned before they could make conversation. The dress she held in her arms looked much more comfortable and suitable for Carol Anne than Mary’s choice. “I’m afraid this is far worse quality than what you are wearing. But it is all I can find,” she said apologetically, holding the dress out for her to see.

 

The lower-class dress had cloth that looked soft, a relief from the heavy fabric of Carol Anne’s present dress. The color was a deep green, the sleeves were short, and the bodice had a crisscross pattern on it. The bodice was the most decorative part of the dress. Carol Anne smiled and took the dress from Sinead’s hands.

 

“It’s perfect! Thank you, Sinead. I truly am sorry for making a mess and breaking all that china. It was so beautiful…”

 

Sinead just waved her apology away as if it was smoke in the air. Ushering her out of the kitchen, they arrived at what looked like a guest room. Carol Anne supposed she was to change her clothes in there.

 

“Would you like some help, dear?” Sinead offered. “I don’t think you are able to get out of all that by yourself.” Carol Anne sighed and nodded, annoyed at the thought of having to go through the vigorous process of undressing. It would pay off in the end though.

 

Sinead helped her out of her stained dress. Luckily, her corset and shift had been saved, so Sinead just had to put the dress on her. Carol Anne had asked her to loosen her corset and she obliged. Carol Anne was more than relieved to be able to fill her lungs completely! The dress fit perfectly.

 

“You look nice, Miss Carol Anne,” Sinead complimented sincerely.

 

Carol Anne got a strange warm feeling when she said that. It wasn’t stuttered like David’s compliments, it wasn’t spoken from the lips of a drunkard, it wasn’t a biased one from her maid. It was a simple statement, like something a friend would say to a friend.

 

“The dress belongs to Master Avery’s sister. She left a few things behind when she visited,” Sinead explained.

 

“Thank you so much for your help, Sinead.” Carol Anne thought about hugging the woman but she thought it would make her uncomfortable. White women were never told to hug black women. Instead, Carol Anne just bundled up her dress into a ball and shoved it into the crook of her arm. Mary would be angry for that, but the dress was ruined anyway―unless Grace could miraculously get the stains out. _Unlikely._

 

Sinead just waved her thanks away while straightening the dress and flattening out its wrinkles. It seemed as if she knew more about dresses than a usual maid did. Perhaps she was a former seamstress? It was a shame that no woman actually lived in the Avery household. Henry was without a wife and Charles Avery without his own woman. Charles Avery’s sister was married and living in Port Royal. She would only visit every once in a while.

 

“Think nothing of it, dear. How about your hair? Will a French braid do?” she asked. Carol Anne nodded while sitting down on a nearby stool.

 

Sinead carefully pulled the millions of pins out of Carol Anne’s hair, letting it cascade down her back. She complimented her on her hair as well. The warm feeling returned to Carol Anne’s stomach and she smiled softly before thanking her. Unlike Mary, Sinead’s fingers were gentle and soft against Carol Anne’s scalp. She relaxed. She was almost a little sad when she had finished.

 

“There you go, dear. You look good as new,” she said. Carol Anne ran a hand lightly over her braid, enjoying the strange feeling of the crisscrossed hair.

 

“Thank you again, Sinead. You have been so much help.” Sinead began to pull her towards the door. Carol Anne stumbled, but Sinead steadied her with a hand on her elbow and a soft smile.

 

“You’re welcome, dear. Let’s just get you back to your mother,” she said. Carol Anne felt her stomach clench at the thought. Mary was going to be so angry with her; she couldn’t even begin to imagine the punishment she was going to give her. Sinead pulled her by the wrist towards the veranda but Henry, Mary, and Charles Avery were waiting in the foyer for her. Mary had a look of pure rage in her eyes. Carol Anne could see them burning like little blue flames. She avoided looking at Mary after seeing that.

 

“Thank you, Sinead. That will be all,” Henry said. Sinead nodded once, but Carol Anne stopped her by a soft touch on her arm. She paused and looked at her, confused.

 

“I will make sure to return the dress and... _thank you,”_ she said. Inside, she thought, _there aren’t enough times I can thank this woman._

 

She smiled and nodded. Carol Anne could tell she wanted to say something, but she could not―not in front of her owner. So Sinead turned to leave. Carol Anne felt alone, as if she were left with people who only were against her. Charles Avery looked aghast; she could tell he was very upset about his clothing even though barely anything had soiled it.

 

Henry stepped into the conversation. “Again, I am so sorry for your dress, Miss Carol Anne. If there is anything you need, just ask.” She gave him a weak smile.

 

Mary’s eyes began to blaze even brighter in anger, even though she looked ashamed for Henry’s sake. Carol Anne refrained from grimacing as Mary began to usher her to the door, digging her nails into her shoulder.

 

“Thank you so much for your hospitality, Henry. But really, we must be going. I apologize greatly for my daughter’s atrocious mistake. Perhaps we can talk another time?”

 

Mary’s nails dug in even further when she mentioned Carol Anne’s fall. She _had_ to wince that time, but no one seemed to notice. Henry nodded in understanding. Charles Avery picked at his clothing in distaste while he sent Carol Anne a glare full of hatred.

  
I guess that means that this courting has failed.

 

“Of course, Missus Cambridge. It was wonderful having you; I would love to see the both of you again.” Henry smiled, opening the front door. Mary quickly pushed Carol Anne through it, obviously in a rush to leave the house. She stumbled on the stairs but caught herself on the white, iron railing.

 

“Yes, Henry. It was a pleasure.” Mary’s tone was short while walking down the stairs to join Carol Anne, effectively signaling that the conversation was over. Henry stood in the doorway watching the two women with a dumbfounded expression before closing the door.

 

Mary’s hand was still on Carol Anne’s shoulder, her nails so deep into her skin that she was worried about how she would get them out. Mary dragged her off the street. She could tell that she was either going to get the beating of a lifetime or get screamed at until Mary grew hoarse. Or both.

 

Carol Anne tensed as she glared down at her fiercely with an expression of pure hatred in her eyes. She flinched as Mary slapped her sharply across the face and was a bit surprised when there was nothing more; perhaps it was because they were in public.

 

“I am so disappointed in you, Carol Anne,” she said, her voice monotone and stoic. Yet there was an acidic taste to it.

 

_Is that all?_ Carol Anne wondered.

 

Her eyebrows drew together in fear and confusion. Mary had never done so little to Carol Anne whether it was physically or verbally―which meant that she was beyond furious. Carol Anne assumed that because she had messed that courting up so badly that Mary was past rage. She was past comprehension of anger...and Carol Anne was about to be on the receiving end.

 

Mary spoke again. “You are a shame to this family, Carol Anne. Let’s go.” With that, Mary turned on her heel and began to walk down the road in an eerily calm way.

 

Carol Anne bit her lip in nervousness, not quite sure if it was a good idea to follow her. But she had no choice. She looked like a lost puppy once again, walking behind her mother. She kept having to remind herself to straighten her back or keep her head up, all while feeling the confused stares of the gossiping women of the town. Their high pitched giggles at the soiled dress in Carol Anne’s arms made her cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

 

Then there were the pitiful stares of others, no better than the judgmental ones. Still, Mary walked with her head held high and so Carol Anne followed, trying to maintain some of her dignity. The walk back home seemed much shorter than the walk to Charles Avery’s house. But the feeling of dread in the pit of Carol Anne’s stomach was growing larger. When the pair arrived home, Mary ripped the dress out of her arms as soon as the door closed.

 

Carol Anne flinched but stayed still as she surveyed it, evaluating the damage done. Her face twisted in anger and Carol Anne braced herself for the onslaught.

 

“You have absolutely _ruined_ this dress, Carol Anne! What were you thinking?!” she yelled, throwing the dress down onto the ground. “I told you to be careful and what did you do? _What did you do?”_ She paused to let Carol Anne answer, but before she could even open my mouth Mary answered herself. “You fell! _Of course,_ you fell. That’s all you ever do! I have absolutely no idea where this clumsiness came from but I sure am glad it didn’t come from my side of the family.” She went silent for a moment.

 

“I’m sorry, Mother. I really didn’t mean―”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she mimicked. “That’s all that ever comes out of your mouth, isn’t it?” Carol Anne shut my mouth. “I swear, Carol Anne; you just ruined your chance of ever getting married! Charles Avery was the highest ranking bachelor in the whole town and here you are: tripping over your own feet and acting like an animal! You are absolutely hopeless and I have no chance of ever finding you a husband. You will be lucky enough to marry a shoe shiner! You are an embarrassment to this whole family, Carol Anne!” she yelled, her voice growing louder with her rage.

 

“What the hell is going on in here?” Richard boomed. He entered the foyer with an agitated look on his face. He had obviously been woken from his sleep. Carol Anne gulped in nervousness, knowing that her father would have no mercy for her.

 

“Your worthless daughter just ruined her chance of ever marrying and making her parents proud,” Mary explained bitterly. Carol Anne saw the anger on Richard’s face. It was almost amusing in a way that wasn’t funny that he was so angry about something he didn’t care or know about. Perhaps he was bipolar. Carol Anne had heard about the mental disease from her studies. He could fit the description. Richard stormed forward and Carol Anne flinched back but held her ground against him as he grabbed her shoulders, squeezing them roughly.

 

“You stupid piece of shit! What the hell is wrong with you? You were never able to do anything right and you still can’t! Can’t you just make your mother and me happy for once?!” he yelled right before he hit me.

 

Mary stood back with her arms crossed and her face blank. Carol Anne grit her teeth and tried to hold in the tears from the pain from his hand and his words. Richard raised his hand again and she leaned back out of instinct, but kept still. He didn’t like it when she tried to protect herself.

 

“Richard,” Mary said, her calm voice cutting through his rage. Richard’s hand didn’t hit Carol Anne but she could feel no relief. “That’s enough,” she said but that only seemed to make him angrier.

 

“Shut your mouth, Mary! This is your fault, too. You’re the one who bore this damned girl. You could have given me a son! A boy that would accomplish a hell of a lot more than this twit!” He turned to hit Mary instead of Carol Anne.

 

Carol Anne shouldn’t have been relieved that he hit her mother instead of her, but she couldn’t help it. She could see the tears of pain pooling in Mary’s eyes as she stared at the ground, silent. “Get out of my sight, girl,” Richard spat. Hatred was clear in his voice.

 

Without another word, Carol Anne turned and ran out the door. When she couldn’t hold it in any longer, tears overflowed and streamed down her cheeks. Her face burned. She put her cool hand on it, which was a slight relief, at least until her hand warmed to the same temperature as her face.

 

She tried to contain her sobs as she made her way to the beach. Down the grassy hill she went, slipping and sliding with blurred vision. She finally sat down on a slate-grey boulder. It was one of the largest rocks in its cluster. This place was a spot that David and Carol Anne came to when they met up, or when Carol Anne wanted to be alone. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she tried to console herself.

 

Their words had hurt. Being called worthless and hopeless weren’t exactly the ideal words you want to hear from your parents. Richard and Mary’s insults shouldn’t have hurt Carol Anne as much as they did, but coming from her mother and father, they cut deep.

 

This kind of reaction from them had never happened before. Sure, the beatings had been worse when Carol Anne was a child and she was called things a few times, but they had never gotten _this_ angry at her. She had definitely messed this up, and there was no way to fix it. Not with someone like Charles Avery, and even if she did marry him, Mary would still hate her. She felt another wave of tears coming on but managed to suppress them, calming herself down and sniffling.

 

She jumped at the sound of a high pitched squeal.

 

“Carol Anne!” It was the sound of Mary Margaret’s voice. She turned her head to see her brown curls bouncing as she ran towards her, David walking a distance behind her. Carol Anne gave the girl a watery smile and quickly wiped her eyes.

 

“Hey, Mary Margaret,” Carol Anne greeted as she ran into her, wrapping her arms around her neck before examining Carol Anne’s face.

 

“Are you alright, Carol Anne?” she asked. Her eyebrows drew together in a way that made her look like David. Carol Anne only chuckled and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

 

“Of course, Mary,” she answered. Mary Margaret pulled away, seeming to forget about Carol Anne’s tear streaked face. She had no taken on the expression of a frustrated child with her lip poking out in a cute way.

 

“My name isn’t Mary, _Carol._ It’s Mary _Margaret.”_ Carol Anne smiled for real that time. She hated it when she called her Mary instead of her full name, so to get back at her, Mary Margaret started calling her Carol. Mary Margaret didn’t say anything else and turned to run into the sea, fully clothed.

 

Carol Anne morosely watched her play in the sea spray. When David finally reached her, she only glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He could see that she had been crying as well as the red mark on her cheek but he didn’t say anything for a while. They just sat there on the rocks with the sun warming them and Mary Margaret’s shouts of joy filling the air.

 

“I saw you this morning,” David finally said, breaking the silence. Carol Anne refused to look at him still, keeping her eyes on the sea. “You looked beautiful.” She bit her lip, looking down at her lap and not speaking for a moment.

 

“Thanks.” She whispered, her words almost inaudible but David heard her.

 

“Where did you go?” he asked, sounded a bit interested in what she had to say but he was waiting for the opportunity for her to tell him what happened. He knew she had been beaten and wanted to help her talk it out.

 

“To Charles Avery’s house. He was courting me,” she answered, wiping her eyes and nose vigorously. Carol Anne felt a little better with the comfort of a friend nearby. Finally, she turned to look at David and his eyebrows knit together in worry as he took in the purple bruise slowly rising on her cheek. “It didn’t end well.” She tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.

 

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asked, blurting the questions out as if he couldn’t hold them in anymore.

 

“My father. My mother. David, I really messed up this time. I can’t fix it; Charles Avery hates me now because I got some damn tea on his silk suit.” She laughed humorlessly, wiping a tear away that slipped out of her eye. David chuckled but let her continue. “My mother has had it. She said I ruined any other chances I had with suitors and that I’m worthless. After such a stupid mistake, I think she’s right.” Carol Anne sighed, smoothing a hand over her hair.

 

“Carol Anne, you are not worthless. Your mother was just angry. I’m sure you’ll find another suitor―there’s no way you don’t. Who couldn’t like you? As for Avery, who cares about him? He’s just a rotten, spoiled, little rich boy. If he’s mad at you for a bit of tea on his suit then he doesn’t deserve you,” David reassured her, slipping her a soft smile.

 

Carol Anne returned it, feeling slightly better with his words. She could still feel herself straining underneath the stress of the situation, however. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t listen to them, Carol Anne. You’re better than that―I’m sure they’ll get over it.”

 

She nodded but she knew they wouldn’t. Not this time. “Thanks, David. You really do help me get through these things,” she said, wiping her eyes one last time and sniffling. She stood and brushed any dirt off her dress, before giving a weak smile to David. “I should go now; I don’t want them getting any angrier at me.” She began to walk away.

 

“Goodbye, Carol Anne.” David called after her as she continued to walk back towards her house.

  
She felt a bit better about David’s reassurance, but there was still a knot in her stomach that told her things were only going to get worse.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Part 1 ― Chapter 3

**Thank you to my beta: redchicken888**

**Third Person POV**

 

Carol Anne woke to the smell of freshly baked biscuits and ham, the scent slowly wafting through the crack under her bedroom door. She could hear faint sizzling, the sound of something cooking on the stove. As she realized Grace was here, a small smile spread across her lips. Grace is the Cambridges’ maid, she comes every other day to cook, clean, shop at the market, or anything that Mary needed. She had been working for Carol Anne’s parents ever since Carol Anne was two years old. She had become sort of a mother figure to Carol Anne wherever her biological mother lacked. Carol Anne could ask advice of her about things she couldn’t say to David.

 

Pushing her sheets away, Carol Anne hastily grabbed a comfortable robe and wrapped it around herself. She was about to run out of the room, but her face in the mirror made her pause. The smudged, tear-stained makeup from yesterday was still there, and Hattie’s French braid was still tightly knotted in her hair. She thought it still looked pretty. Carol Anne knew that Grace didn’t mind how she looked, so she rushed to the kitchen without fixing her face.

 

Grace was standing there in her usual clothing: a peasant dress with a bonnet covering her hair. Her ivory skin was slowly aging as was her silver hair. When she turned to smile at Carol Anne, she could see the happy lines engraved around her warm, brown eyes. Carol Anne grinned back and ran into Grace’s open arms. As her arms wrapped around Carol Anne, a wave of comfort soothed her mind. A simple hug was something Mary had never given Carol Anne, but she didn’t mind. She had Grace.

 

“Good morning, my Carol Anne,” she greeted softly. They stood hugging for a few moments.

 

“Good morning, Grace,” Carol Anne returned before they pulled away. Grace ran her soft hands down the sides of her face, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

 

“What happened to your face, girl?” she asked in her Irish accent. At first, Carol Anne thought she was talking about her makeup, but her cool hands touched the cheek that her father had slapped. Carol Anne felt her stomach sink at the memory. Before she had gone to bed the night before, she had checked her face in the mirror and found a small cut on her cheekbone from where he had hit her. It wasn’t too bad. Hopefully people wouldn’t notice it. Carol Anne’s eyes fluttered to the floor and her hands fidgeted.

 

“Well, yesterday, I was courted by Charles Avery. And I fell...which messed everything up. And then my parents got mad at me. Father hit me pretty hard,” she mumbled, avoiding Grace’s eyes. Grace knew about the things her parents did to her but she never told anyone. Carol Anne assumed it was because she didn’t want to get fired.

 

Grace sighed after Carol Anne’s explanation, guiding Carol Anne’s face up with her gentle fingers. “Do you want to help me with breakfast?” she simply asked. Carol Anne nodded. Grace smiled softly and then turned back to the stove where a few pieces of sliced ham were cooking. “Pull those biscuits out of the oven for me, girl.”

 

That’s another thing Carol Anne liked about Grace, she didn’t push for her to talk when she didn’t want to and she certainly didn’t go digging for information. Carol Anne did as Grace said, using a thick rag to prevent burning herself. Unfortunately, she burned her finger anyways by accidentally touching the hot metal. Grace thanked her before giving her a cold rag to put on the burn.

 

Internally, Carol Anne smiled. She liked to compare her mother to Grace sometimes. Just to see the differences between them. The contrast of Grace’s kindness and Mary’s coldness was interesting, to say the least. When Carol Anne burns herself, Grace gives her something to soothe it, while Mary would rather scold her and leave her to take care of it.

 

Not that Carol Anne minded taking care of herself, she usually preferred it. But a little motherliness was always something she longed for.

 

“Grace, do you know Sinead? She works for Mister Avery. I met her yesterday. She was very kind; she helped me get a new dress after my...fall,” I said, rolling around a warm biscuit in my hands.

 

“Sinead Baker? Yes, I know her. She’s very nice, I talk to her every once in awhile when we run into each other at the market.” She eyed the biscuit in my hands. “Don’t play with your food, girl.” I followed her correction, taking a bite before placing it back on a small plate.

 

“When’s that little Mary Margaret coming over again?” Grace continued. “She fancied those cinnamon rolls I make and she was quite an eccentric little girl.”

 

Carol Anne laughed as she remembered the last time Mary Margaret came over. She had offered to watch her for a little while, since no one in her family was available. Mary went absolutely mad and struggled to keep up with cleaning Mary Margaret’s messes. The energetic little girl was bouncing off the walls, and Mary _hated_ it. She preferred the quiet and calm children. Mary Margaret was the complete opposite.

 

Luckily, Grace was there that day to help keep everything in order and occupy Mary Margaret. The trio must have made dozens of cookies and cinnamon rolls that day. By the time Mary Margaret had to leave, half of them were gone. Carol Anne had fun, nonetheless, and Grace did as well. Mary? Not so much.

 

“I’m not sure. I doubt Mother would ever let her back over,” Carol Anne replied, her smile fading. She heard the sound of soft footsteps and turned her head to see Mary walk into the kitchen.

 

_Speak of the devil,_ she thought.

 

She looked frail and much older than she usually did. Her hair was still tied back tightly like usual, but something was different. Carol Anne could see her wrinkles more clearly. Her eyes looked exhausted. Perhaps she didn’t get enough sleep the night before.

 

Grace and Carol Anne had gone silent as Mary entered the room. Mary didn’t say anything either, refusing to look at Carol Anne. She could tell her mother was still mad about yesterday.

 

“Good morning, Missus Cambridge! I hope you slept well.” Grace greeted her in a cheery voice, but Carol Anne could tell she was just acting.

 

“I’ve had better nights, Grace.” Mary sighed, going to get a glass of water.

 

Carol Anne looked down at her half-eaten biscuit, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore, so she stood. The legs of the chair scraped against the floor and made an unsettling screeching noise. She didn’t bother to push her chair back into the table, like Mary would have wanted.

 

“Would you excuse me?” she asked. Her tone made it more of a statement than a question. Mary didn’t even bother to look in her direction. Grace just watched with concerned eyes.

 

Carol Anne hastily left and walked back to her own room. She wanted something to distract her. She knew she should start on cleaning her ruined dress, but the fabric was so delicate. She wasn’t quite sure if it needed to be cleaned a special way or not. _I’ll probably leave it for Grace to clean,_ she thought. Grace might be able to get all the stains out; if she couldn’t, Carol Anne would just have to get rid of it. Mary would never let Carol Anne out in public in stained clothing.

 

Instead, Carol Anne decided to clean the dress she had borrowed from Sinead the day before. She would need to return it hopefully sometime today, but tomorrow was always an option.

 

When Carol Anne had gotten a tub full of water set up outside and some soap, she began to clean the dress. It wasn’t in need of a lot of scrubbing or cleaningㅡshe had only worn it for a half of a day and it wasn’t very dirty. She hung it up to dry when she finished, satisfied that she managed to do _something_ right.

 

Suddenly she jumped. “Carol Anne, you must go to the market with Grace. Get dressed, she’s waiting for you.” It was Mary from behind her. Carol Anne turned and only caught the hem of her dress disappearing from the doorway.

 

Carol Anne sighed. Mary was still mad at her if she refused to be nearby for long. Usually, when she was angry like this, she would forgive Carol Anne after a couple of days. But this seemed different. She was more distant and detached. Carol Anne decided she would give her some time to simmer down.

 

She shook the thoughts about her mother from her mind and went inside to get ready for the market. She was able to dress herself this time; her corset was still on from yesterday which made it easier. Putting on a comfortable dress that was still attractive, Carol Anne mused about the fact that it was a better-quality dress than what Sinead gave her. Still musing, she combed her hair and stared at it. She thought about leaving it down but out of habit, pinned it up into a bun.

 

When she met Grace at the door, she just smiled at Carol Anne, stroking the pieces of hair falling out of her bun before waving for her to follow. Carol Anne walked beside Grace instead of trailing behind. Unlike with Mary, Grace let Carol Anne have a sense of value.

 

As the pair made their way into the markets, Carol Anne spotted a group of her “friends” standing outside one of the boutiques. They weren’t exactly the friendliest or the nicest people in town, but they were in Carol Anne’s social class and age group. So naturally, she was expected to befriend them. Or so Mary had said. The group was five young adults: two girls and three boys.

 

There was Anna; she was the richest out of them all. She was a prissy and spoiled girl; Carol Anne guessed that she would make a good couple with Charles Avery. Mabel was Anna’s best friend; they were inseparable and had all the same interests. They even dressed alike; they might as well be sisters. The boys were Robert, Thomas, and Edward. They might as well be replicas of each other. They all acted the same, laughed at the same things, did the same things, and had the same style.

 

That’s another thing Carol Anne did not like about her life. Everyone she knew was the same; had all the same mannerisms, actions, and opinions. What was the point of doing anything if everyone else was doing it?

 

She also spotted David among them. It didn’t really surprise her, but she would suppose it would be a bit strange to an outsider that Thomas Goodman could be friends with someone like David. Their friendship had begun when a merchant the three boys had stolen from was searching for them. David hid Thomas and the other two boys on his father’s boat. Which had been Carol Anne’s idea originally. Of course, since Carol Anne was a female, David got all the thanks. Thomas knew that he owed David a favor but instead, he just made up for it through friendship.

 

Carol Anne didn’t think that David particularly liked being around Thomas and his friends, but he did it anyway. Robert and Edward were Thomas’ best friends and they didn’t mind David being around. Social class didn’t nearly matter as much to them as it did to girls.

 

Carol Anne was jerked out of her thoughts as Grace stopped by a man hauling some fresh fruits. She began to haggle a price with him and Carol Anne stopped with her.

 

“Carol Anne!” Anna, the prissy girl, called. Carol Anne internally winced before turning in her direction, putting on a tight smile. She waved back and, a beat later, groaned softly when she motioned her over.

 

“Grace, I’m going over with my—my friends—for a little while,” Carol Anne said. Grace just nodded quickly before returning to her heated exchange with the salesman.

 

She began to walk over to Anna, Mabel, and the other boys, dreading the conversation. Their talk was always boring, pointless, or gossip. Carol Anne could see Anna eyeing her loose hair while giving her a strange look. Mabel just gave Carol Anne a somewhat condescending smile. Both of them had their hair tucked into bonnets, gloves on their hands, and all of their skirts on. Carol Anne was the opposite. The boys had been too distracted in their conversation to notice Carol Anne until Mabel greeted her.

 

“Hello, Carol Anne! It’s great to see you again,” Mabel exclaimed as I reached them. The huge smile did not leave her face for a moment.

 

Anna began to fan herself with a Japanese fan that she had not stopped going on about for the past few weeks. “You must have _so_ much to tell us,” Anna said suggestively. Carol Anne’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. By now, the boys had stopped talking to listen in on the girls’ conversation. They didn’t bother greeting Carol Anne, but she didn’t really expect them to.

 

“About what?”

 

The corners of everyone’s lips curved upwards at this, except for David. Carol Anne scanned all of their faces with a confused look until Anna finally answered.

 

“Your courting with Sir Charles Avery!” she exclaimed and Carol Anne’s eyebrows rose in realization. “I heard that it went terrible, Carol Anne.” Anna gave a small giggle. Mabel joined her. Their derisiveness made Carol Anne’s cheeks flush, the awful taste of anger grew on her tongue. The boys had also started to laugh with the exception of David, who was just giving Carol Anne a pitiful look.

 

“I heard that you threw a piece of cake in his face and then ripped his entire suit in half,” Robert laughed. Carol Anne felt her cheeks grow even hotter. She glared at the laughing faces of the group around her, her fists clenched in anger.

 

“I thought she had slipped and taken Charles down with her,” Edward contributed, making everyone laugh harder. Anne and Mabel weren’t even trying to hide their amusement any longer.

 

“I did not! It was a small accident!” Carol Anne insisted. Then she realized that trying to defend herself was useless. When she noticed that no one was listening to her, she decided to stay silent and wait for them to quiet down.

 

“Charles overreacted, it was nothing,” she said when they had finished laughing. “Besides, I didn’t want to marry that frog anyway.” Anna and Mabel gasped in horror, while Edward, Robert, and Thomas lost interest and carried on with a different conversation. Carol Anne noticed that David wasn’t saying anything; he just stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring at the ground.

 

_“Carol Anne!_ How can you say that? Sir Charles Avery is the richest bachelor in town and he was kind and courteous enough to call you to his home. He even courted you before me!” Anne exclaimed as if it were one of the most shocking things she had ever heard. She put her hand on her chest and Mabel solemnly nodded in agreement.

 

Carol Anne rolled her eyes at their drama. Luckily, they didn’t see it.

 

“Anyway, Carol Anne, you should never say that again. Sir Charles Avery would be a wonderful husband; it’s just too bad that you ruined it for yourself.” Anna softly fanned herself as if Carol Anne had no other worries in her life but to find a husband. Mabel did the same as Anna.

 

Carol Anne’s fists were balled in anger again and she was about to unleash her tongue, unable to keep her words of hatred in any longer. But Thomas spoke up before she could.

 

“So, did you ladies hear about that pirate raid in Barbados? I heard it was brutal. Nearly no survivors and everything was burnt to the ground. No livestock, no gold, no silver, no goods, nothing was left behind,” Thomas said as if he were telling some adventurous tale. Anna and Mabel were wide eyed and a little pale. They were terrified of pirates like any normal woman would be, but Carol Anne? No, she did not fear pirates as much as she should.

 

“Really? That’s amazing! I wish I were a pirate. Swashbuckling and wearing eye patches,” Edward said with an excited smile. Robert and Thomas announced their agreement with the same amount of excitement. In contrast to the boys, Anna and Mabel looked at loss for words, something that both of them were not known for.

 

“Me too. I’d like to not ever have to take a bath. I could get tattoos and maybe a hook for a hand,” Robert said, holding his up with with his pointer finger in the shape of a hook. Carol Anne was torn between another eye roll and smiling at his idea of becoming the fairytale Captain Hook. She knew that none of the boys had any intention of becoming a pirate. Their lives were set up for them; Robert was engaged to Mabel, Thomas was on his way to becoming an esteemed banker and Edward would soon be joining the British army.

 

“Aye, you bilge rat!” Edward shouted at Thomas. They began to engage in a pretend dual, looking foolish the whole time. Robert and David watched, but only Robert was enthusiastic enough to join the fight. David just stood back with a slightly bothered look on his face.

 

“Pirates are absolutely disgusting,” Anna declared. Her nose was wrinkled in distaste as she tried to ignore the playful boys. It was clear she didn’t approve and neither did Mabel.

 

“Horrid things, aren’t they? Liars and thieves, they all are,” said Anna, clearly quoting her father. Mabel sided with Anna once again. Carol Anne bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hold her opinion knowing that both the girls would despise it. Carol Anne was finding it harder and harder to hold her tongue lately. David had been listening to their conversation and Carol Anne could see a shameful expression cross his face. She didn’t dwell on it and focused on what Anna had to say next.

 

“Vulgar and filthy, I bet they haven’t worked a proper day in their life. They don’t deserve a penny of what they get.” Anna spoke with indifference and turned her nose upward as if her words were law. She always talked as if her opinion was the correct one. Carol Anne was sure that no one had told her otherwise. Mary always saw Anna as an angel and it bothered Carol Anne to no end.

 

“Maybe pirates aren’t so bad. I think that they’re rather interesting,” Carol Anne spoke up and both Anna and Mabel looked even more horrified than they did before. The boys overheard her and paused in their pretend swordplay to comment.

 

“A girl who likes pirates? How strange…” Thomas commented, causing laughter to erupt from the other two boys. Carol Anne’s eyes flickered to the ground in embarrassment but she convinced herself to hold her ground and ignore their laughter. Anna and Mabel had stricken expressions on their faces; she could tell that if they didn’t think that she was crazy before, they did now.

 

“Why don’t you just go put on a pair of trousers and grab a sword while you’re at it,” Robert smiled and another round of laughs came from the boys.

 

“Might as well join Parliament!” Thomas laughed. Carol Anne gritted her teeth together and spoke up over their guffawing.

 

“Girls can be pirates! There’s nothing wrong with that,” she argued. The girls shifted uncomfortably on their feet. David was watching Carol Anne with a twinkle of admiration in his eyes, something that Carol Anne didn’t completely anticipate.

 

“Well, when pigs fly, I’ll admit that girls can be pirates,” Robert said. Before Carol Anne could reply, she felt a hand gripping her arm tightly. A delicate, gloved hand.

 

“Carol Anne, that behavior is hardly appropriate,” Anna hissed and Carol Anne stared at her angrily. “What would your mother say? You are a lady, are you not?” Carol Anne glared at her, her fury flaring up and her stare turning positively dangerous.

 

“I hardly believe that it’s for _you_ to decide whether _my_ behavior is appropriate or not,” she snarled at her, ripping her arm out of her grip. Carol Anne gave one last glare to both Anna and Mabel’s shocked faces before turning on her heel and walked back towards Grace.

 

Her steps didn’t falter when she saw that the wasn’t where she had been. Since her eyes quickly found her walking out of another shop with a loaf of bread, she joined her. Carol Anne knew that Anna and Mabel were watching her, but she didn’t care. Grace gave her a strange look, seeing her angry expression.

 

“Are you alright, Carol Anne?” she asked and Carol Anne glared at the street. Her rigid back slowly relaxed as she forced herself to count to ten, not wanting to say something that she would later regret.

 

“I’m fine,” she responded with an end-of-discussion tone.

 

Grace took the hint and began to walk back in the direction of the house. Carol Anne followed her, calming herself down as they went. The walk home was short and silent; a slight tension in their surrounded them, but Carol Anne refused to acknowledge it.

 

She found herself lost in her thoughts again. Who did Anna think she was, anyway? She was just like Carol Anne―barely an adult, and yet she thought she could tell Carol Anne if her behavior was appropriate. But she guessed that she had overreacted slightly. She was just upset because she had heard enough of her mother’s complaining. It was just too much to hear it from someone else.

 

As Grace and Carol Anne reached the house, they found that Mary was still ignoring Carol Anne. Richard was gone and Carol Anne was glad for that. Grace had gone to the kitchen to put the food away and Carol Anne followed her, feeling sorry for snapping at her earlier.

 

“Do you want to talk about what happened, Carol Anne?” Grace asked while putting the empty basket back where it belonged. Carol Anne sighed tiredly, getting up from her spot at the table to follow her as she walked into Carol Anne’s room. She had another basket in hand, ready to collect all the dirty laundry.

 

“It was just Anna and Mabel; they said some things that frustrated me. It was nothing. I overreacted,” she explained, brushing the situation away. Grace began to toss her skirts and other clothing items into the basket. Carol Anne joined her in the process to help.

 

“Ah, I see. Don’t let those girls mess with you, sweetheart. They’re just some no-good, spoilt brats,” Grace said and Carol Anne chuckled at her language. Mary would never permit those words in her house except if they came from Richard. Carol Anne looked at Grace’s soft smile and immediately felt better. She knew Grace would always been on her side.

 

“Can you tell that story again, Grace?” Carol Anne asked, putting a few pairs of scattered shoes into her closet neatly. She thought she might as well clean up while Grace was gathering the laundry. The corners of Grace’s mouth turned up slightly into a half-smile.

 

“What story, girl?” she asked, but she already knew what story she was talking about. Carol Anne’s own smile tugged at her lips and she paused in her cleaning.

 

“The one about Davy Jones and the _Flying Dutchman,”_ she reminded the old woman, trying to imagine what Davy Jones’ tentacle-draped face must look like. With a shudder, she continued her cleaning.

 

Davy Jones was Carol Anne’s favorite pirate story that Grace told her. She never got tired of it, even though she had grown out of bedtime stories. Listening and telling stories was one of Carol Anne’s favorite things to do. She thought stories possessed the power to take you anywhere; let a person do anything. It was like a dream but you could control what happened. Mary never liked Carol Anne’s overactive imagination―whenever Carol Anne told her a story she had made up or heard, Mary would just say that she needed to be thinking of more important things.

 

“Well, alright,” Grace sighed like she was tired but Carol Anne knew she was faking. Grace had told her this story many times, perfecting it along the way. She never hesitated or stumbled over a line. As she started the story, she began to help Carol Anne make her bed. There was already a content smile on Carol Anne’s face.

 

“Once, there was a man named Davy Jones. He was much like you and I, but he _loved_ to sail. He sailed the seas day and night, not ever visiting land except to stop for supplies. And even then, his crew fetched it for him. Davy Jones remained on his ship at all times. It has been said that he’s never stepped foot on land since he was born. Davy Jones was a man of the sea and he loved it very dearly along with his ship, the _Flying Dutchman._ One day, he came across the sea goddess herself; Calypso.”

 

Carol Anne tried to picture Calypso’s face this time. She wasn’t sure what a sea goddess looked like but she imagined smooth, scaly skin, hair as fluid and silky as water, and a dress of coral and other sea life. She also imagined her to be very beautiful.

 

“They fell in love, the Sea and Davy Jones.” Carol Anne smiled at the thought of it. Grace took a deep breath before continuing. “But after awhile, the sea goddess had to leave her love. She asked him to do her one favor, just one deed. And he agreed―he would do anything for his beloved goddess. Calypso bestowed upon Davy Jones the duty of ferrying the souls who died at sea to the afterlife. And he willingly complied. As I said, he would do anything for his goddess.”

 

“There was one condition to this duty. Davy Jones could not go on land for ten years at a time and when he could, it would be only for a day. And so, for a decade, he did as his goddess asked, ferrying the souls who died at sea. When those ten years were up, Davy Jones set off for an island, an island named Isla Cruces. And he sat on the beach, waiting for Calypso to come so that they could be together again before he had to leave. But Calypso did not come.”

 

Grace’s voice changed dramatically as the darker part of the story grew closer. Carol Anne could feel pity for the poor captain. It must have been horrible to not see the one you love for ten years and then when they could finally see you again, they didn’t come. It was a tragic tale and the one who made it up must have had a heavy heart.

 

“Davy Jones became so enraged and heartbroken that his goddess did not love him anymore that he ripped out his own heart. He put it in a chest, locked it up, and buried it on that very island. Davy Jones was so very angry that he didn’t continue the duty bestowed upon him, and with that came a consequence. He slowly started to become part of the sea himself. His beard became the tentacles of an octopus. Rumor has it that Davy Jones himself still sails the seas with his imprisoned crew, harvesting souls to get his revenge on the goddess.”

 

Grace finished the story with a dramatic tone which made Carol Anne grin. She had said it in a way that made Carol Anne feel as if Davy Jones was coming for her. But of course, she knew that couldn’t have been true. Davy Jones did not exist. Grace returned the smile and picked up the basket full of dirty clothes to wash them.

 

“Do you ever think that meeting a pirate would be interesting? Especially someone like Davy Jones?” Carol Anne asked, following her as she walked to the kitchen. There was a tub filled with water there, ready with soap to scrub her stained dress. Grace froze and gave her an incredulous look.

 

“Oh, heavens no! Pirates are filthy things who nothing but evil! Why on Earth would you ever think of meeting one? They’d have your hide before you could say hello,” she exclaimed, sitting down on a stool beside the tub. “I swear, girl, you have nothing in that beautiful, empty head of yours,” she teased with another smile and Carol Anne returned it. Grace, always joking, reminded her of that when she did something that wasn’t the smartest. Sometimes Grace would call Carol Anne her beautiful, empty flower pot.

 

“Well, maybe the said pirate is friendly. I’m sure that they would have great stories to tell,” Carol Anne said, sitting down on a chair as Grace began to soak on of her corsets. “And I’m sure Davy Jones is friendly, or at least sad. It would be wonderful to ask about his pirate life since he has lived for so long.” Carol Anne went to help Grace with her garments but Grace just swatted her hands away, shaking her head at Carol Anne like she was a child.

 

“Davy Jones is but a myth, girl. He is far from real and I don’t know of any friendly pirates. All have done evil and all will be punished,” she said, grabbing a brush to thoroughly clean the clothing item.

 

“I supposed,” Carol Anne sighed, resting her chin on her hands while watching Grace’s hand in the soapy water. “Do you think being a pirate is thrilling? With all the adventures you’d have, you’d be quite experienced,” she pondered, looking to Grace’s face again.

 

“Carol Anne! You must stop thinking this way!” Grace scolded, pausing in her cleaning. “Who is filling your mind with these dreadful thoughts? Do you know how much trouble you’d get in if someone heard you talking about this?”

 

Carol Anne sighed again, looking down at the table in slight shame. “Yes, I know. I’ll stop,” she said, mostly for Grace’s sake. She earned a relieved smile from Grace’s creased face, so she knew she had been forgiven.

 

“Now, get over here, girl. Help me with these skirts.” Carol Anne joined her like she had tried before and this time, she let her. They began to scrub at the stains of cream and icing in the fabric. “I swear, you’ll have to buy all new clothes if you keep bathing in pastries,” she teased and Carol Anne chuckled, working at a stubborn spot of red jelly.

  
“I can’t help my clumsiness,” she said, seeing Grace smile as they continued washing her clothes.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 1 ― Chapter 4

**Third Person POV**

 

The sun was slowly but surely rising, signaling the beginning of another day. When Carol Anne awoke, she wasn’t exactly surprised when Mary didn’t come in to make sure she was getting dressed and ready.

 

As she combed through her tangled hair, she remembered that she still had to give the dress that she borrowed back to the Averys’ maid. She had left it outside to dry yesterday and never brought it back inside. Hopefully it wasn’t damp from any morning mist.

 

With that worry in mind, she quickly got dressed in similar clothing as the day before. She wasn’t worried about her appearance; Mary wasn’t bothering her and Carol Anne was just running an errand. She braided her hair loosely and rushed towards the back door in the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone awake, but a dress neatly folded on the kitchen table with a note resting on it caught Carol Anne’s eye.

 

She paused. Her eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as she neared the note and picked it up. Carol Anne’s name was written on it in perfect cursive on the front so she opened it. It was from Grace, who wanted to inform her that she had found the dress hanging outside on the clothesline and she had brought it in for her. She also warned her to be careful around food that day, which made Carol Anne smirk.

 

Smiling softly at her thoughtfulness, she put the note down and picked up the dress. After she put the note into a small pocket on her dress, she began to search for leftover biscuits that Grace had made yesterday. They were in the pantry along with the other goods Grace had bought.

 

A door opened and then slammed shut. Carol Anne froze in her tracks, biscuit in hand, listening to her father enter the house.  _ Where had he been all night? _ Wherever he’d been, he had been drinking. His heavy footsteps sounded on the wooden floors, along with the noise of a few things crashing over, before his figure appeared in the doorway. He looked exhausted. Carol Anne stayed still, abruptly reminded of her nightmare she had the other night.

 

Richard saw her despite her attempts to become invisible. The glare he gave her made it clear that he did not want to see her at all.

 

“Good morning, Father,” Carol Anne murmured loud enough for him to hear, tilting her head down slightly in respect. She knew that being on her best behavior and staying out of his way were the best actions when he was drunk, especially since he was so furious at her.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he sneered, clearly agitated.

 

“I was going to return this dress to the Avery’s,” she explained, motioning to the dress draped over her arm. “Their maid let me borrow it after the incident at their house.”

 

“Is that so?” he asked after a moment of deadly silence.

 

Carol Anne nodded, trying to keep any fear off her face. Richard crept forward menacingly and Carol Anne lowered her head even more, not making eye contact with him. After deafening silence rang in Carol Anne’s ears, Richard spoke up. “Where is that damn maid? Grace?  _ Grace!” _

 

Carol Anne breathed a small sigh of relief when he backed off of her, knowing that she would be safe for a little while longer. All she had to do was excuse herself or hope that Richard would leave the kitchen.

 

“Grace isn’t here today, she’ll be here tomorrow,” she quietly said to Richard to get him to stop yelling for Grace. She was sure that he had woken Mary.

 

“Don’t speak to me that way, you little bitch!”

 

Carol Anne’s eyes widened at Richard’s sudden burst of anger and she flinched as he stepped towards her. But this time, he grabbed her arm and threw her in the direction of the kitchen table. Carol Anne’s hip hit the end of the table and she toppled to the ground, knocking her head on a chair. A pained breath escaped her lips as she held her bruised hip and looked up at Richard. To her relief, he seemed to have lost interest in her.

 

Richard simply grabbed the biscuit she had dropped and didn’t give her another glance as he left the kitchen, heading for the bedroom. He acted as if nothing had happened. Carol Anne sighed and rubbed the spot on her head where a small bump was forming before rising to her feet. She adjusted her skirts before taking another biscuit and the dress. She was going to get out of the house before anything else happened.

 

X

 

On the walk to the Avery’s, the busy bustling of the town on a weekday morning soothed her. As usual, children ran in the streets, stray dogs and cats trailed merchants and folks carrying anything edible, and townswomen gossiped here and there. A few men recovering from a hangover were always a common sight. Carol Anne was thankful though for the normalcy of the day.

 

Visiting the Avery’s was uneventful as well. Henry and Charles were either not in the house, or they just refused to see her. The kind maid, Sinead, was the one to greet her at the door but they only exchanged a few words before Carol Anne left again.

 

She longed for some time alone. This was strange considering how much time she had spent alone lately, but when she said alone, she meant away from people who knew her. So, she decided it would be wise to head towards the sea. After all, not many people she knew ventured onto the beach or docks in fear of ruining their clothes or something stupid like that.

 

The smell of the sea grew stronger as she neared the docks and sounds of seagulls reached her ears. Carol Anne couldn’t help the small smile on her face as she heard the sounds of sailor’s voices shouting commands at each other. During some of the free time she had at home, Carol Anne enjoyed researched and reading about sailing. It interested her. The strange words and amounts of intricate work that a ship needed to function amazed her.

 

Carol Anne had never been on a boat, much less a ship, before unless you counted David’s father’s boat. But she had never been on it while it was moving. Carol Anne was born in Saint John’s, so making the extravagant voyage from England to the Americas was never something she could say she did. But she hoped that someday she would be able to travel distances like that. Being there in Saint John’s just didn’t feel right. She didn’t quite fit in like everyone else did and everyone made it pretty clear whenever they got the chance. Carol Anne hated the looks they gave her; jealously, hatred, annoyance, pity… All she wanted was a place where she didn’t get those stares; a place where she wouldn’t have to worry about being fancy, polite, or anything of those things. The way Carol Anne looked at her life now, she decided that she would rather live any other life just to get away from hers. Perhaps, all she wanted was change.

 

But she was stuck in Saint John’s unless some miracle happened. But the thought was so unrealistic that Carol Anne almost laughed.

 

The sound of soft waves grew louder and she stopped when the sand was only a step away. She saw an unfamiliar merchant had just docked and men were unloading cargo. A few officials who worked for the East India Trading Company were taking down notes, names, and numbers. Carol Anne watched them for awhile before she heard an unusual splash. Her gaze traveled to where she had heard the noise and saw David. He was sitting on the rock they had previously met on and he was skipping stones. Skipping stones in the ocean was hard and he wasn’t having too much luck.

 

Carol Anne made her way over to him, not speaking as she clambered over the rocks even though David saw her coming. Only slipping a few times, she finally got to the rock and sat. David took a seat next to her, rubbing a smooth, black stone in his hands.

 

“Good morning,” David greeted, his tone a bit cheerful. Carol Anne gave him a small but weak smile and made eye contact once before staring at the blue waves of the ocean.

 

“Good morning,” she returned, her tone less than cheerful but her attempt at sounding happy was evident. She picked up a small rock that was lying nearby and rubbed her fingers against it. It wasn’t smooth at all but it was rather rough and coarse. She continued rubbing the jagged rock anyway.

 

David gave Carol Anne a concerned look which she saw out of the corner of her eye but she ignored him, letting the faint sound of sailors at the dock calm her. Neither of them spoke for a moment and Carol Anne didn’t mind; but David did.

 

“Mary Margaret sure has taken a liking to baking. I guess we have Grace to blame for that,” he said jokingly, waiting for her reaction. She didn’t say anything but smiled weakly. “She claims she’s going to be the best baker there ever was which seems a bit dramatic. But the bread she learned to make is wonderful, you’ll have to have a loaf. I have to admit, I was a bit surprised that she was able to make something that tasted good but she did it.”

 

Carol Anne knew he was rambling, making up for her lack of conversation. She even detected a hint of nervousness from him but she couldn’t quite place what it was for.

 

“It must be the new shipment my father brought in a few weeks ago. Grain from up North is amazing and the sugar from Haiti is by far the best. Well, so I hear. Speaking of Haiti and sugar, my father should be returning soon with a few crates. My brothers and I were going to help him unload, do you want to help?” he asked, a bit too earnest for her reply.

 

“Of course, you know I’d love to,” Carol Anne responded politely and David nodded in content, happy with her answer. “David, what do you want to do with your life?”

 

Carol Anne paused and David didn’t speak either so she tried to clarify. “I mean, what do you want to become? What do you want to accomplish?

 

She was the one who turned to look at him this time and David didn’t meet her gaze. He was in thought, his eyebrows drawn slightly together and he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

 

“I always thought I’d become a merchant like my father but I supposed I want to do something great. I want to discover and explore places that haven’t been explored before. Like the North, where the Indians live or where the slaves live in Africa. I’ve tried to read about the vast jungles that grow there but there’s so little about them.” David grew more and more animated as he talked, his passion shining through his usual collectiveness. Carol Anne had known that he was interested in maps and such but she had to admit, she was bit surprised about his daring dream.

 

She nodded absentmindedly and David returned the question. She pondered the question, realizing that she’d never really thought about what she wanted. Well, in a way, she had. Who hadn’t? Usually it was a passing desire for a pastry or a new dress. And of course, she had wished for her parents to not be so hard on her. But had she ever really planned on what she actually wanted to become?

 

“I don’t quite know, to be honest. But I do know that I want to be free. I want to be able to do anything that I want, whenever I want without anyone telling me what to do,” she said, her voice hardened and defiant. There was a certain look to her eyes, one of will and desire. David was giving her a solemn and pitiful look. He must have known why she wanted freedom so badly.

 

“I understand, Carol Anne. I’m sorry about your parents and all. It must be hard...living with them. Your mother puts you through so much and your father…” he trailed off and instead of giving his intended purpose of making her feel better, she was getting angry. She could feel it all building up, the stress and the pressure of it all.

 

The anger of David trying to relate to her only added to it.  _ What did he know about my life? About how I felt? How could he say such things in front of me? Like he knew what it was like to live with my parents. _ Her fists clenched in rage and she turned to glare at him.

 

“Enough, David! Stop speaking to me as if I’m a child! I am through with everyone pitying me and treating me like a fragile plaything. And I most certainly don’t need someone like you getting into my personal life and pretending to feel bad for me. You probably talk behind my back like everyone else in this damned town!” she yelled, her voice rising with each accusation. David looked shocked, his eyes wide with hurt and confusion.

 

“Carol Anne―”

 

“No! Just leave me alone!” she growled, getting to her feet and hopping onto the grass. David followed her but she ignored him, continuing to storm away.

 

“Carol Anne, please. Just listen!” David protested, right behind her. She continued to ignore him until he grabbed her hand, forcing her to stop walking.

 

“What? What is it, David?” she exclaimed in annoyance, her rage still bubbling. His hand on hers pulled her towards him and before she could react, he kissed her.

 

It was a short kiss. A chaste one at that. At least that’s what she thought, she had never been kissed before. On the cheek, yes, by smitten young boys when she was a child. But never on the lips. The sensation wasn’t like she thought it would be. Perhaps, it was because she was filled with anger and hadn’t been expecting it.

 

Carol Anne was shocked yet outraged that David had been daring enough to pull a stunt like that. She yanked away from him, pulling her hand with her and backed away. Her emotions were becoming too much. The guilt, the rage, the surprise, the confusion. They were drowning her. Suffocating her. David looked a bit regretful but confident at the same time.

 

“Carol Anne, I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please, let me help you through this,” he said but Carol Anne just continued to back away.

 

She needed to escape, to leave this place. She needed to get away. This was all too overwhelming. David could see her panic and reached out for her but she flinched, making him pull away. She turned on her heel and began to run without even thinking.

 

David yelled Carol Anne’s name but his voice grew distant as her shoes slapped against the dirt and soon the cobblestone. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes but she wiped them away, refusing to let them fall. Her hair was no doubt a knotty mess and she must have looked frazzled beyond belief. She didn’t care. She just continued to shove past everyone who got in her way and ignored the questioned remarks and angry yelling.

 

The swirl of people around her, their angry, confused glares and the colors continuing to overwhelm her. She turned in a circle, trying to find relief from all of the sensations and her eyes caught sight of the symbol of a tavern. She let out a short breath and took off after it, reaching the door quickly. Carol Anne’s hand rested on the handle and she hesitated in opening it before swinging the door open.

 

She slammed the door shut, causing a few eyes to look up at her from their pints. They were mostly sailors, some possible pirates, some merchants looking for a way to wind down. And of course, there were the whores and dancers who liked to slink around. Carol Anne clearly did not belong there and everyone could tell.

 

But still, they ignored her unless they were sober enough to speculate. There were lustful gazes just as much as there were hateful or curious gazes but Carol Anne just wandered over to the bar where the owner of the tavern stood. She took a seat on a barstool, a man passed out drunk slept a seat or two away from her.

 

“Wot can I do ya for, miss?” the man asked and Carol Anne swallowed, nervous from never having been to a place such as this before. The man could tell and saw that she looked scattered. “I think a pint of ale should do just fine,” he said and she nodded blankly, placing a coin on the wooden bar.

 

“‘Scuse me for askin’, miss, but t’was it a rough day?” he asked once he placed a full cup of frothing ale in front of her.

 

“You could say that…” she trailed off, bringing the dirty mug to her lips. She began to gulp the ale down, clenching her eyes shut at the strong taste of alcohol. She had only tasted ale a few times before at the insistence of her playful, male friends but this was the first time she had an actual drink of it.

 

Ale was a barbaric drink; something that sailors had after a long day. Or perhaps a hardworking man after a fruitless day. This is what she had been told and she felt as if she had deserved it. She was a tired, poor girl who had been through too much in one day.

 

Carol Anne had to stop drinking to let the liquid rush down her throat and her mouth puckered in distaste at the flavor. The owner only smirked and shook his head at her before continuing tending to dirty glasses and mugs.

 

Her head rushed after the drink but she just kept downing the thing, hoping that whatever remedy the pirates and sailors spoke of was in that drink. It didn’t take long for the ale to take effect, her tongue felt funny and she felt as if bubbles were filling her head. It was a nice, warm feeling and she longed for more of it.

 

“Need another, missy?” a rough voice asked and she turned, taking a moment to focus on who was talking. This man was new, he had no doubt been one of the men keeping his distance from Carol Anne awhile ago.

 

Without waiting for her answer, another pint of ale appeared before her eyes along with a flash of silver. She blinked but took the mug in her hand anyway. The man had a smile on his face that revealed slightly yellow teeth and he emitted the smell of sea and rum. He was a sailor. He could’ve been a pirate for all Carol Anne knew but none of that occurred to her as her mind continued to slur.

 

What a lightweight she was! How many pints had she had? She couldn’t remember whether it was two or four. How thrilling this day was becoming!

 

Carol Anne couldn’t remember much of what the man was saying to her but he encouraged her to drink until she slipped into a dreamy state. Her balance was off and things just seemed to get funnier and funnier. She could still see what was happening around her and was conscious of the kind man making his intentions clear.

 

The lust in his eyes was something that was hard to miss and Carol Anne even felt a few coins slip into her hand along with some whispered words that made her blush. Yet she giggled and let the man lead her to a room. She couldn’t process where this room happened to be but she didn’t much care. 

 

Fear and hesitation started to creep up on her as the man grew more and more hasty with every move he made. Did she really want to do this? What would everyone think?  _ Carol Anne Cambridge gave herself away for money in an old tavern, _ she could just hear it. Those cynical and criticizing voices.

 

Those real questions sobered her up quite a bit but reassurance from the man and a bit more drink convinced her. She didn’t care what anyone thought and she certainly was not going to take any shit from anyone who thought she did.

 

All thoughts of David, her parents, courtship, dresses, manners, and being ladylike were shoved out of her head as she stepped into the new and exciting unknown.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 1 ― Chapter 5

**Third Person’s POV**

 

Sore but satisfied. Those would be the words Carol Anne would use to describe her afternoon. There was little guilt and regret but also a haunting feeling of anxiety from what her mother would think. Of course, that didn’t matter anymore but it was a force of habit.

 

And then there was the fact that she had given herself to a man she wasn’t married to. While drunk. She didn’t quite regret it, that night was the wildest and most fun night she’d yet to have. She felt things she didn’t even know she could feel and after she had gotten over the shame of her naked body, she felt more exhilaration than she ever had. Even after years of tradition taught her marriage before sex, she didn’t quite care anymore.

 

Now that the pureness that was reserved for her future husband was gone, it unsettled her. But after a quick reassurance that she might not even find a future husband, she felt better. No one she cared for cared for what she did anyway. But those thoughts did bring her back to David. The conversation they had, the words exchanged, the kiss, her running away. It crashed over her like a tidal wave along with a pounding headache. It must have been the alcohol and the stress. Carol Anne didn’t want to think about David anymore so she focused on other things; like getting dressed and going home.

 

The man who she had shared her first night with was still induced in a drunken sleep; tired out by his own ecstasy. He definitely wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon and Carol Anne doubted he would have any kind or reassuring words to say when he did. So, she pulled on her skirts and left, ignoring any gazes from the people in the tavern. 

 

Carol Anne felt empowered, she felt as if she had taken control of something for once in her life and made a decision that benefited her personally. She felt as if she were above all the men and women in the tavern. She felt free and new. And it was wonderful.

 

The soft clinking in her pocket made her reach in and find a few coins. They were the ones that were given to her from the man earlier in the day. She kept them.

 

X

 

It was still the same day except the sun was setting. Carol Anne had a small hangover from the numerous drinks she had in the morning. The streets weren’t as busy as they had been before and she felt like a new person while strolling down the road.

 

When arriving at her front door, she hesitated entering. She looked a mess and there was the dangerous possibility that her parents would be awake. Most of the town had been in bed so there could be a chance that Mary was too.

 

Carol Anne considered using the kitchen door but she didn’t feel like walking all the way around the house. And so her hand reached for the door handle and she let herself in. She made the least amount of noise as possible while hoping that she could make it look like she had spent the day doing something other than wickedness. 

 

After shutting the door softly, she turned and saw her mother. Her arms were crossed and she looked furious. Not as furious as she had been when they left the Avery’s but she was still angry. Carol Anne opened her mouth to attempt to explain but no sound came out. Mary spoke before she did anyway.

 

“Where were you, Carol Anne?” She was disappointed, as always. Her voice was a bit scratchy and hoarse. Had she caught a cold? Carol Anne didn’t know.

 

“With David and his family.” The lie slipped off her tongue smoothly and she hoped that Mary would believe it. She looked suspicious and marched towards Carol Anne with scrutinizing eyes. As she neared, Carol Anne took in her appearance. Mary still looked a bit sickly, her skin pale and she still looked exhausted. But her anger made her look healthier than she probably was. Carol Anne wondered if she was taking ill or if she was just growing older and she hadn’t noticed.

 

Mary’s fingers tugged harshly at Carol Anne’s messy hair; there was a disapproving glare on her face as she took in the rest of her appearance. Mary was no idiot. If the smell of the tavern and her looks didn’t give it away, then Mary would just jump to conclusions.

 

“Carol Anne!” she exclaimed, gripping her shoulders with painful strength. “You gave yourself away, didn’t you? To that merchant’s son!” she cried in horror, looking mortified at this tale she had created.

 

Carol Anne blinked in surprise that Mary had thought she slept with David before quickly trying to explain herself. It wasn’t until after the first words were out of her mouth did she realize that sleeping with David was better than sleeping with some sailor. Or pirate despite how wildly enticing the idea sounded.

 

“David? I wasn’t even with―”

 

Mary froze and Carol Anne snapped her mouth shut. Mary searched her eyes for signs that she had been lying earlier and found exactly what she was looking for. It was too late for Carol Anne to correct herself or hide her emotions.

 

“You mean to tell me that you gave yourself away to a  _ stranger?!” _ she nearly screeched, her grip tightening even further on Carol Anne’s shoulders. Mary’s volume led Carol Anne to the assumption that Richard was indeed out of the house. Which was most likely a good thing.

 

“You answer me right now, Carol Anne!” Her head pounded with Mary’s every word and she had no choice but to answer to shut her up.

 

“Yes! Alright, yes! I gave myself away to a stranger,” Carol Anne said, confirming Mary’s fears. Mary’s face seemed to pale even more, if that was possible. The shock on her face made her look like an old ghoul.

 

“You watch your tone with me, young lady!” she growled and in an instant, her hand had cracked across Carol Anne’s cheek. She supposed she had deserved it for doing what she did and raising her voice but once again, it was hard for her to care.

 

Surprisingly, the more Mary showed her hatred and spite for Carol Anne’s actions, the more she felt the need to continue them. How could Mary ever pull her away from the beautiful feeling of freedom and the unknown? Of course, this came from the mind of a curious teenager. It made Carol Anne realize that there was so much more out there than just the sheltered life she had been living. There was an entire world out there for her to explore with adventures she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

 

As Mary wound her hand up to smack Carol Anne, the front door creaked open. Both of the women turned to find Grace’s hunched figure shuffling through the open doorway. She paused in surprise at the sight of them and a blanket of tense silenced drifted over the room.

 

When Carol Anne turned back to look at her mother, Mary had already put her hand down and straightened herself up, smoothing out her skirts while her daughter glared. Grace just closed the door and stood still, waiting for any orders or dismissal from Mary.

 

“Good morning, Grace. Would you mind preparing a bath for Carol Anne? She has quite a bit of filth to scrub off…” 

 

Mary’s voice was bitter and her face sour, like she had sucked on a lemon rind. She was disgusted with Carol Anne and she guaranteed that she wouldn’t hear the end of her “dirtiness.” Grace nodded and walked forward to lead Carol Anne to the bathroom. 

 

“Thank you,” Mary said curtly before turning on her heel and walking speedily to her room.

 

“Of course, Mrs. Cambridge,” replied Grace but Mary was already gone. “Come, Carol Anne,” Grace said, making sure to sound more formal around the agitated mistress.

 

Grace put a firm hand on Carol Anne and pushed her forward. She allowed her to usher to the washroom with an angry expression on her face. Grace didn’t say anything as she closed the door and began to prepare a bath. Carol Anne stood by the sink with her arms crossed, not bothering to break the silence while she fumed.

 

_ Who did Mother think she was? She acted as if she didn’t care about me one bit and even goes on to tell me how worthless I am. And after I do something that I want to do, she gets furious with me about it. She’s completely infuriating and I hate her. _

“Carol Anne.”

 

Grace’s calm and collected voice pulled Carol Anne from her thoughts. She looked up at Grace with rage still in her eyes but Grace was not affected. She just pretended like nothing was wrong. The bath was already filled with steaming water and a towel as well as soap was set out. Carol Anne hadn’t even noticed that she had completed her task.

 

“What happened, girl? Why are you in such a mess?” Grace asked, taking a step towards her and untangling a knot in her hair with expert fingers.

 

Carol Anne didn’t bother to answer her. She just continued to stand there with a scowl. Her arms remained crosses as Grace waited for an answer. She was very patient with the feisty Carol Anne but when she noticed that she would get nothing out of the girl, she spoke.

 

“Carol Anne?” she asked with slight concern.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Carol Anne snapped, keeping her glare on the floor tiles.

 

Grace pulled her fingers from Carol Anne’s hair and sighed. She rubbed her back to comfort her before walking towards the door. Carol Anne refused to meet her eyes even though she knew Grace was watching her.

 

“Alright. Take your bath then, girl. It’ll get cold before you get in,” she said before closing the door behind her. 

 

Carol Anne let out a loud sigh, brushing any strands of hair out of her face and looked out the window. A nice breeze was blowing in from the sea and she enjoyed the smell of salt. There were a few small ships coming and going from the port but nothing interesting. The ships weren’t the compelling element, Carol Anne was captivated by the never-ending horizon. The way the sea and the sky faded into one. It was amazing.

 

After staring at the beautiful scenery for a few moments, she undressed. Her skirts pooled at her feet and she stepped into the warm water. The water felt wonderful, her muscles relaxed and she let the light steam envelope her face. Carol Anne’s abdomen was still slightly sore from her wild night so she just decided to sit in what felt like a small heaven.

 

Carol Anne hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep in the tub until the discomforting cold water woke her. She didn’t even get a chance to wash herself but she had no desire to sit in the cool water any longer. So, she got out, drying herself with a towel.

 

The sun had risen in the sky quite a considerable amount and Carol Anne’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday. By now, it was lunchtime. She got dressed in her room before joining Grace in the kitchen. She saw that she had made two sandwiches and tea. Carol Anne thought they looked delicious and wasn’t about to wait to eat.

 

Grace looked up and smiled at Carol Anne when she saw her. Carol Anne returned the smile weakly and grabbed her plate and a cup of tea. Grace saw that she wasn’t going to be staying in the kitchen and grew concerned.

 

“Carol Anne...are you sure that you don’t want to talk about it?” she asked and Carol Anne bit the inside of her cheek. She was already halfway out of the kitchen but she thought it would be nice to vent her frustration with her mother. 

 

“No thanks, Grace. But thank you for lunch,” she said and left the kitchen, changing her mind last minute.

 

Carol Anne knew Grace would be hurt by her rudeness but she didn’t really want to talk about Mary’s abusiveness. She wanted to feel that freedom again. It was like whiskey to a drunk. For Carol Anne at least. She wanted it, no, craved it. To get out of that sinful house and to a place where she could do what she wanted.

 

And that place was that tavern.

 

Carol Anne returned to her room, closing the door and putting her lunch down. She quickly scarfed down the sandwich as she threw open her closet doors. Soon, nearly all her dresses and skirts were strewn across the room and her bed. Her plate was empty and her tea cold by the time she had emptied the drawers of her bureau.

 

Her hands rested on her hips as she examined her variety of clothing. Sorting through all of it, she put aside the fancy things and ugly things given to her by her mother. Then, she set to piling up the things she wore daily and found comfortable. All of those things were filed back into the closet and bureau neatly as to not leave a mess for Grace to clean. The sun was beginning to set in the sky but Carol Anne didn’t pay attention to it.

 

The items that were left over were the pieces of clothing that were more revealing and pieces that she didn’t care about getting dirty or ruined. After sorting once again, she picked out an outfit she deemed suitable. It looked simple but the corset was meant to push her breasts up a significant amount. Carol Anne knew her supple breasts were something to be admired. The dress was comfortable yet something she hadn’t worn in public due to the tightness and low-cut neckline. Her shoes were things she had stolen from her father long ago. Boots that were not appropriate for a woman to wear but they fit and were much better than normal slippers or heeled boots.

 

A knock on the door made Carol Anne jump out of her skin and she quickly threw a blanket over her new get-up. She peeked outside to see that the sun was sinking lower towards the ocean and that she would need to light candles soon. The door creaked open to reveal Mary. She was staring at Carol Anne with that same disappointed expression she usually wore while Carol Anne stood up straight to address her. Neither greeted each other.

 

“I apologize, Carol Anne, but I will be locking your door tonight. I can’t trust you and you’ve proven that plenty of times.” Carol Anne’s eyebrows drew together in a scowl but she didn’t open her mouth as Mary continued. “I hope that you realize how horrid and immoral your actions have been lately. I will pray for your soul.”

 

Carol Anne wanted to roll her eyes at Mary’s ridiculousness. She treated lovemaking like some sort of taboo and that Carol Anne was going to Hell for it. Carol Anne was a believer of course, she grew up a good Christian but she had her doubts.

 

“And I will pray for the spawn growing in your womb. Let us hope that it doesn’t turn out a failure as you have.”

 

Carol Anne was stunned. Mary’s words were cruel but her accusation was astonishing. Carol Anne didn’t even know if she was with child, it was much too early to tell and she doubted that her womb was good for conceiving. Mary had issues with multiple children before Carol Anne, she could never get the baby through the first few months. Carol Anne had only assumed she had inherited that trait.

 

Mary said nothing else and closed the door. Carol Anne heard the click on the lock and her hand immediately rested on her lower abdomen. She glared at the space where Mary had stood with grit teeth. She was a cruel woman and Carol Anne couldn’t stand her. She couldn’t insult Carol Anne’s child like that even if that child didn’t exist. Carol Anne’s fists clenched and she felt the urge to hit something. She vowed to never bring a child into this world around that woman. Her child would not suffer the same as she had.

 

After a moment or two, Carol Anne calmed herself. She knew that she was not pregnant and that she didn’t have to worry about that for a long time, if at all. So instead of taking her anger out on something, she pushed it all to the back of her mind and set to getting dressed.

 

The corset squeezed tight but the pain was good. The dress hugged her in ways she was not used to but she pressed on. The boots were strange on her feet but they were the most comfortable shoes she had ever worn. She looked in the mirror and decided to pin up half of her hair. That’s what the whores did after all. They left half their hair hanging down because if it was all down it would symbolize their wedding night. And whores do not get married. Carol Anne didn’t even bother to braid her hair.

 

She left all her jewelry off, not wanting to risk it being stolen. But her rose pendant caught her eye. Thoughts of David returned and she shook her head. She was not going to let any memories ruin her night. She closed the jewelry box and locked it before turning towards the door. This was not the first time she was locked in her room and it was most certainly not going to be the last. But she knew that she could creep out the window.

 

Carol Anne easily opened the window and climbed out. She left it cracked so that she would be able to get back inside in the morning. Walking through the front door when she was supposed to be locked in her room would not be a fun experience.

 

The evening breeze felt wonderful and she was not used to the wind flowing through her hair so easily. Her hair brushed her cheeks and her neck in a way that was lovely. She was free again. Carol Anne took in a deep breath of fresh air and set on her way to the tavern.

 

Walking a little strange of course with her new boots.


End file.
